


From the Ashes

by ErBearG32



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol Abuse, Car Accident, Devastated Dean, Drunk Dean, Gen, Hurt Dean, Hurt Sam, Memory loss Sam, Mute Sam, Traumatized Sam, attempted suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-30
Updated: 2013-06-26
Packaged: 2017-12-07 00:36:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 27
Words: 80,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/742063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErBearG32/pseuds/ErBearG32
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Season 6 AU- Ignoring his little brother’s final request to live a normal life with Lisa and Ben, Dean deserts them, intent on rescuing his little brother from Lucifer’s Cage, no matter the cost. But when Sam is finally out, his soul intact, will it do more harm to him then good? Drunk/hurt/devastated but protective big-brother Dean and traumatized/hurt/loss of memory/mostly mute Sam. (Yes, I said mute)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N- I just lost my job this afternoon, so I will apologize in advance that the updates on this will not be as quick as they were for my previous stories. I will however do the best that I can, but with the curveball my life threw at me today, I cannot make any promises. Nevertheless, I still hope you enjoy this.

Chapter 1

The punches rained down on him, bone cracking with bone. Blood was everywhere, he could barely even feel his face anymore, he was growing numb to the pain. But still, he never once raised a single finger to the one hurting him. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. Because he had to reach his little brother; he had to find him in there, because the one throwing the punches wasn’t his brother. He might be wearing Sam’s meat suit, but it was not Sammy. Never his Sam.

“Sam…” He groaned in agony as he leaned against the windshield of the Impala,  
“It’s okay. It’s okay, I’m here…I’m here…I’m not gonna leave you…” His voice was barely recognizable to his own ears. There had to be lasting damage done, but Dean could care less,  
“I’m not gonna leave you!” He felt more punches thrown on him before the collar of his worn leather jacket was grabbed and Dean looked up into the familiar face of the one possessing his little brother. The fist was rising again, ready to strike; to throw it’s final blow. The one that would end it all for him. 

But there was something different this time, Dean knew it. Something was different in the large hazel eyes staring in his direction. This time, however, they were looking right past him, past his head, until they came across something that was lying in the Impala just behind him. Dean remained silent as he watched the fist shake silently and a look of confusion crossing the familiar face in front of him. It took a few moments, Dean watching in silence, until he finally saw the fist loosen up and he suddenly felt himself come crashing back to the ground. A harsh gasping noise was heard in front of him and, despite the agony of the beating he had endured, Dean looked up with one good eye and felt his heart fill with love towards his little brother as Sam backed up and looked down at him with nothing but sorrow and love in his eyes.

His baby brother was back.

But the feeling didn’t last long however as he listened to Sam speak,  
“It’s okay, Dean. It’s gonna be okay…” He listened as Sam’s breath came out in harsh gasps,  
“I’ve got him.” 

The next thing he knew, Sam was reaching into his pocket and pulling out the Horseman’s rings and tossing them to the ground of the cemetery, chanting the spell that caused the ground to suddenly open up in front of them. Loud screeching was heard and all Dean could do was watch.

Just watch as he sat helplessly as his little brother was about to sacrifice himself for this God-forsaken world…

Before Dean knew what was happening, as if his entire world had shifted, he found himself back in that same motel room. The little gold amulet was dangling from his hand over the trashcan and all he heard was the sound of the clink as it hit the bottom. Ignoring the look he knew his brother was giving him as he walked out the door, Dean clutched his bag and didn’t look back.

“It’s supposed to be you and me against the world, right?”

“Dean. It is.”

“Is it?”

“I just don’t think we can be what we were,” He was now saying as he stood facing his brother outside in the hospital parking lot,  
“I just don’t think that I can trust you.”

“If you walk out that door…don’t you EVER…come back!” Dean was lying flat on his back, still trying to catch his breath after having nearly been choked to death. He was staring up into Sam’s eyes, watching as he was met with what looked like absolute hatred staring down at him. 

“It means…”

“Say it,” Sam’s words were clipped and his eyes narrowed into slits.

“It means that you’re a monster.”

“Hey ya, Sammy.”

Before Dean knew it, after a nearly violent tussle with his brother to try and convince him that he really was himself-not a demon, not a shifter-he had his arms wrapped tightly around his little brother. He heard, just like if it was yesterday, the shaky breaths coming from Sam and they way he clutched at him like he would never let go. Moving his arm, he wrapped his arms tighter around his brother and closed his eyes, just savoring the moment of actually being able to see and hug Sam again.

“Dean, I’m not gonna let you go to Hell!”

“Yes, you are!”

“I’m gonna take care of you, I’m gonna take care of you, I’ve gotcha,” He was now kneeling down on the muddy ground, his hands grasping the sides of Sam’s face as life was slowly fading from his brother from the knife wound,  
“That’s my job, right? Watch out for my pain-in-the-ass little brother?” Stroking his brother’s face, he moved his hand to swipe away the loose strands of hair from Sam’s now closed eyes,  
“Sam? Sam? Sam?! Sammy!” 

“As long as I’m around, nothing bad is gonna happen to you.”

“Good night, Sam,” Dean was now that innocent looking child again, leaning down into his brother’s crib as he placed a gentle kiss on Sam’s forehead.

0000

“Dean? Are you alright?”

The soft, yet tired voice of Lisa Braeden sounded from behind him as Dean rested his elbows on his knees and ran a hand down his face. Not turning back around to face her, the elder Winchester wiped away any signs that he had woken up from yet another dream and nodded his head,  
“I’m fine, Lisa.”

Dean felt the bed spring from behind him and tensed up when he felt the familiar hands of Lisa coming in contact with his shoulders and rubbing them. The older Winchester closed his eyes as he fought to hold back tears that threatened to fall, listening as Lisa whispered into his ear,  
“Come back to bed.” Not getting a reply, she moved closer and wrapped her arms around his shoulders from behind,  
“Talk to me?”

Dean shook his head in irritation even as he didn’t acknowledge her loving touch. Instead, he carefully shrugged out from under her hold,  
“Not now, Lis.”

Hurt showing plainly on her face, Lisa sat back on the bed and frowned at the older Winchester’s back,  
“Why not? You haven’t spoken that much to me, about these dreams, about Sam, since you came here-“

She was cut off right then as she watched Dean whirl around, his eyes flashing with an emotion Lisa couldn’t pin point. She bit her lip and looked up into Dean’s face, trying to make out what exactly was going on in his head,  
“Dean-“

“Don’t talk about Sammy,” He interrupted, his voice deadly serious and his green eyes, though brimmed with tears, flashed sparks,  
“I don’t want to hear you saying his name around me. Ever.”

“He’s your brother, Dean; you have to talk about him-“

“No, actually, I don’t,” Dean interrupted, rising to his feet suddenly and walking over to the other side of the room where he knew his boots lay,  
“I can’t do this, Lisa.”

“Do WHAT?” Lisa demanded, pushing the rest of the covers back on the bed and standing up,  
“Stay here with Ben and me? You’re the one who showed up on my doorstep a week ago, looking like you had your entire world taken away from you. What am I supposed to think, especially when you refuse to talk with me about it?”

The elder Winchester snatched his boots up from the other side of the room and took a seat in the nearby chair in the corner of the bedroom,  
“Lisa.” His voice was stern, yet filled with such sorrow and despair it made the younger woman close her mouth in silence,  
“I didn’t come here for you and Ben,” He watched as Lisa’s eyes widened but continued before she could speak,  
“I came here because it was my little brother’s final wish, for me to live a normal life, to forget about him.” Dean slipped his feet into his boots and starting tying them up quickly, wanting to get the hell out of this house as fast as possible,  
“Well, I can’t do that-“

“You haven’t even given it a try, Dean,” Lisa stepped forward hesitantly and placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder while leaning down and grabbing the remaining boot out of his hand,  
“And what do you mean by his ‘final wish’?” Frown lines creased her forehead as she spoke; there was no possible way Dean’s words could mean what she feared they meant,  
“Just tell me! I want to help you…”

“You can’t help me,” Dean snapped back, reaching out and snatching his boot out of Lisa’s hands,  
“Nobody can help me. The only one who can help me is no longer here and I think it’s high time I get out of your hair and leave you and Ben to do whatever the hell you please.” Quickly tying his shoe, Dean rose to his feet, knocking off Lisa’s hand in the process. As he reached down for the leather jacket that was currently draped over his bag which he had refused to unpack in the week he had been here, Dean let out a long sigh and slowly turned back to face Lisa, a twinge of guilt churning in his gut,  
“I’m sorry, Lisa. I really am…but I can’t stay here.”

“What do I tell Ben?”

“You’re his mother; I know you can find the right words to say to the kid,” Dean replied as gently as possible, although all he wanted more then anything right now was to get out of here and never look back. Hell, he could just head to Bobby’s; anything was better then staying here. Turning back around and shrugging into the worn leather jacket he had not worn since the day his baby brother had thrown himself into Lucifer’s Cage, Dean reached down and grabbed the bag that was at his feet. Forgetting the fact that the bag was still open, he was just swinging it over his shoulder when something caught his eye as the familiar black cord with the little gold amulet fell out of a side pocket and onto the floor beside his feet.

His heart clenching in his chest all over again, Dean stood as still as a statue even as he watched Lisa reach down and pick it up, holding it in her hands, staring at it before looking back up at the older Winchester,  
“You dropped this…” She hesitantly spoke, sadness in her voice as she held it up for him.

Dean’s green eyes were wide as saucers as he looked at the familiar necklace dangling from Lisa’s hand. Memory after memory washed over his mind as he reached a shaking hand up to the place around his neck where the amulet used to hang for so many years until he had carelessly and heartlessly threw it out. Right in front of Sam, no less. Guilt and anger towards himself tore at the older Winchester brother as, without another thought, he reached up and snatched the amulet from Lisa’s hand without a word. Untangling the cord, he placed it back around his neck and stared at it for a few silent moments before reaching back up and clutching it in his fist.

“Don’t leave, Dean. Please.”

Swinging his bag over his shoulder again, this time zipping it shut as he did so, Dean flashed a look her way, his eyes betraying every emotion he was trying to hold back,  
“Goodbye, Lisa.”

With those final words and a final look of guilt thrown her way, Dean turned his back and walked towards the door, not once looking back at her or Ben’s closed bedroom door. He would never see his baby brother again and although he wanted more then anything to honor Sam’s final wish, this was one wish he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt he couldn’t keep, even if he did give it a chance.

“Go find Lisa. You pray she’s dumb enough to take you in. You go live some normal, apple pie life, Dean. Promise me!”

The words Sam had spoken to him in the Impala that fateful night right before he had said “yes” to Lucifer washed over Dean as he hurried down the stairs and out the front door,  
“I’m sorry, Sammy…I can’t do that.”

0000

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Dean pulled the Impala, tires screeching, off of the deserted road a little over an hour later and cut the ignition. He was far enough away from the Braeden’s house now…far enough where he could now release the pent up emotions and anger without taking it out on Lisa or Ben.

“God damn it, Sammy!” He yelled in the car, silence greeting him as he slammed the palms of his hands against the steering wheel. Hard. With a final slam, he leaned his head against the wheel and shook it miserably,  
“Why, Sam? Why did you have to do this to yourself!” 

Once again, his demand was greeted with the sounds of nothing except for the pounding of his own heart. With another pound on the steering wheel with one fist, Dean reached up around his neck and grasped onto the amulet hanging down the front of his shirt and clenched it in his fist. Much to his shame, he felt the threat of tears forming in his eyes which soon began to cascade down his face and onto the Impala’s steering wheel,  
“God, Sammy…” He whispered with a shake of his head,  
“If you were still here, I’d kill you myself for putting me through this, man…” His voice choked up and he closed his green eyes tightly for just a brief moment before opening them again and running a hand down his face, trying to gather himself together. He knew he had to get back on the road and in order to that, he had to put his torn up emotions aside for the time being.

With a trembling sigh, Dean ran his hand over his face once more and smeared away the wetness that was visible on his cheeks before turning the car back on. As he listened to the familiar rumble of the Impala, Dean glanced down at Sam’s empty seat beside him and reached for the box of cassette tapes that were lying on the floor. Frowning, the elder Winchester picked the box up and examined it like it was some sort of foreign object. This was not where he had left the box when he had last used it. When his baby brother had taken the swan dive at the cemetery in Kansas.

Still frowning, Dean pulled the lid off of the familiar box and instantly noticed the cassette tape lying on top of his collection, his name written in bold black letters on the front. His heart starting to thump loudly again, Dean pulled the tape out and just stared at  
it, taking in his little brother’s familiar handwriting. There was no way Sam could have put that there before he had taken Lucifer on; there was absolutely no way Sam could have done that without him knowing it.

Memories washed over Dean as he recalled how he had cranked the rock music up full blast and had driven to that God-forsaken cemetery in Kansas, intent on doing absolutely anything to get Sam’s attention to help him gain back control of his body from Lucifer. Even if it meant allowing himself to get beaten to a bloody pulp. But how in the world had Sammy managed to get that tape there? Turning the tape over his hands, Dean noticed another note on the back of it and felt the tears start to threaten his eyes again.

Bobby. Of course Sam had Bobby put it there.

“Damn you, Sammy,” Dean cursed through his tears as he pushed the tape into the cassette player and turned the volume up even as the Impala rumbled quietly beneath him. His heart broke in half right then as his little brother’s voice suddenly appeared through the speaker.

“Hey, Dean. You’re probably wondering how in the world I managed to do this without you knowing. Well, I’ve got my ways. I’m going to have Bobby sneak this into the Impala after I take on Lucifer…” Sam’s voice shook slightly before Dean heard his brother clear his throat and continue,  
“There’s just a few things I wanted to talk with you about and I know you can’t interrupt me this time…or at least I think you can’t.”

“Nice try, Sam,” Dean whispered in a broken voice as he listened to his brother speak.

“Yeah, you’re probably interrupting me right now, but I need you to listen to me, okay? I take it you most likely found the amulet I put into your bag by now. I kept it with me until the last minute, until I knew you it was the right time…It’s yours, Dean, and I want you to take it back. I know you probably think I’m being incredibly stupid for taken on Lucifer and saying yes, but I’m doing it so that you can still live. I’m giving that amulet back to you because…well, it’s my own way of asking you to continue to believe in me, to have faith in me. Just like I have faith in you, Dean, that you can go on without me. I want you to go to Lisa, to live that full apple pie life that I always wanted. Do that for me, Dean, and I will feel so much better for leaving you like this…for leaving you alone again. I want you to forget about me, big brother, and just live that life that you deserve with Lisa and Ben.”

“I can’t do that, Sammy…” The tears in Dean’s eyes were now falling freely down his face as he forced himself to continue listening to his brother. This was the final time he would hear Sam’s voice and although hearing him say that he wanted Dean to forget about him made Dean himself want to hurl that tape across the street…at the same time, he just couldn’t do that.

“I know I’ve done some horrible, unforgivable things to you, to us, to our relationship, ever since you got back from Hell. Well, consider this a clean slate; you never deserved to have a brother like me, a brother who continuously lied to you and hurt you…I never wanted any of it to happen, but it did and I can’t change the past, but I can change the future. Your future, Dean. Just do this one thing for me. Please.” Sam’s voice cracked with emotion and Dean knew with certainty that his baby brother was fighting with everything in him to hold back his own tears as he was speaking,  
“Well, that’s it…except for one thing though, Dean. I love you, brother. I’ve always loved you and it’s because I do, that’s why I’m asking this of you. Be good to yourself, Dean.”

The next thing the older Winchester heard was the sound of the top stopping and nothing but static. Dean’s heart was in his throat as he took in the final words he heard Sam say. With a shaky hand, he reached over and ejected the tape, pulling it out of the tape player and held it tightly in his hands.

“You can’t ask me to do that, Sammy…” He whispered shakily,  
“That’ll never happen…” He tucked the tape into his jacket pocket and clutched the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white,  
“How could you think I could just forget about you? How could you think I can just get on with my life as if you never existed, Sam?” He never expected an answer, as his brother wasn’t there to give him one, but at the same time, the silence that greeted Dean again caused him to let out a sudden shout of rage and despair,  
“Damn it, Sam! How the hell could you do that to me!” Pain filled the older Winchester brother’s heart and soul; it was as if someone was reaching inside of him and attempting to pull his heart out. 

He remembered how when his brother had died in Cold Oak, how he had been ruthlessly stabbed to death in front of his very eyes. How Sam had died right there in his arms, all the life flowing from his body all within a matter of seconds. Dean knew right then that he had been unable to live without his baby brother, which was why he had made the demon deal to begin with. This however? Dean didn’t think the pain could be any worse, he didn’t think that anything could hurt more then that pain he had felt when he had sat vigil over his brother’s still, cold body.

Boy was he wrong.

What Dean was feeling now was 100 times worse then that…this time, he knew where his brother was, where he was trapped at, what he was suffering. Dean had been there himself after all…but Sam was in Lucifer’s Cage, literally, his only companions being two furious archangels who had tried to end the world. And there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.

“To hell with this,” He growled to himself, anger and despair threatening to take a hold of him as he put the car back into park and pulled quickly back onto the road. He had originally been planning on heading straight over to Bobby’s, but now…now, there was no way he could face the older hunter. Bobby was always like another father, a better father, to him and Sam, but Dean had said his goodbyes to the older man a week ago as he was leaving for Lisa and Bens. To turn up now would mean getting his head chewed off, which would lead Bobby to force him back into that life.

There was absolutely no way in Hell that was happening. There was only one place that could ease any of the pain that he was feeling and it wasn’t Bobby Singer’s junkyard.

0000

“What the hell do you mean you’re not at Lisa’s, you idjit?”

Dean rolled his eyes to the ceiling of the motel room and downed the final drops of the alcohol he had bought not even an hour ago. He was already on his third one since the time he had entered the town and booked a room and already, Bobby had managed to get a hold of him, much to the older Winchester’s disgust.

“I mean, I left last night, Bobby,” Dean snapped back, setting the bottle down on the table with a loud clunk,  
“I can’t be there.”

“That was your brother’s request, you damn idiot!” Bobby shouted over the phone, knowing full well just from the slur of Dean’s voice that the boy was well and truly drunk out of his mind,  
“You listened to the tape, didn’t you? And you didn’t even think about coming over to my place? Where the hell are you?”

“In a motel, Bobby,” Dean replied, rising to his feet and making his way over to the bed and plopping down, leaning his head back against the pillows,  
“I’m not driving, don’t get your panties in a knot…”

“Don’t talk to me that way, boy,” Bobby growled, concern clearly evident in his voice as he berated the younger man. He had called the Braeden’s that morning, just wanting to check in with Dean to see how he was doing after Sam had taken the swan dive the week before. He knew from experience that dealing with the Winchester brothers when one of them died…heaven forbid, it was never a pretty picture. When Dean had died and had went to Hell, he couldn’t keep track of Sam and take care of him, no matter how much he had tried and then of course, there was Sam’s death in Cold Oak. There was no talking Dean out of his despair, there was no helping him; Bobby was useless and although he had said his goodbye’s to the older boy, he refused to be completely out of contact with him. But when he had spoken to Lisa and she had informed him that Dean had just up and left early that morning after yet another dream…or nightmare, whatever it was…the gruff hunter had immediately dialed Dean’s cell and now here they were, a few minutes later, and Bobby knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that the boy was drinking himself into oblivion to dull the pain,  
“Where. The. Hell. Are. You? Do you understand the words that I just spoke, Dean?”

“I heard you, old man, no need to shout at me,” Dean cursed under his breath and blindly reached down to the floor for the paper bag, grabbing another bottle of the cheap liquor he had bought in bulk and popping the lid off,  
“I said I’m in a motel, you don’t need to know where-“

“Don’t make me track you now, Dean,” Bobby hissed,  
“Because you know I will!”

Dean shrugged carelessly and put the bottle to his lips, savoring the feel of the liquid going down his throat. It tasted like shit, but it sure felt better then the deep agony he had been feeling in his gut a few hours ago,  
“Whatever. Do what you wanta do, Bobby.” Not waiting for a response, Dean snapped his cell phone shut and tossed it onto the bed beside him,  
“I don’t care.”

The last thing Dean wanted right at the moment was to be hounded by his friend; to be lectured because he was going to drinking to solve his problems instead of talking it out with Bobby. There was no amount of talking, no amount of caring and sharing, that would make the pain, agony and guilt go away. It was weighing too heavily on his chest and because of that, there was only one option and that was the alcohol. The alcohol was his new best friend. It would help lessen some of the pain and agony he was feeling; it wouldn’t take it away completely, but it could at least be put on the back burner of his foggy mind for the time being.

Just as the older Winchester felt himself start to doze off, the sound of his cell phone ringing jolted him upright. Groaning, Dean reached across the bed to grab it, not bothering to check the caller ID, but already knowing who it was,  
“…The hell do you want this time, Bobby? I’m fine-“

“My ass you are!” The familiar sound of Bobby’s truck was heard in the background and Dean sighed impatiently as his friend spoke,  
“Don’t go anywhere, boy; I’m on my way.”

“You tracked me?”

Bobby snorted and snapped back,  
“You thought I wouldn’t?”

With a loud sigh, Dean snapped the phone shut again and this time threw it across the room, not paying any attention to where it landed. Shutting his eyes, Dean allowed himself to doze back off, letting Bobby’s words and his promises to be there drift into the back of his mind as he fell asleep.

0000

“Because I know you!” Sam was now shouting at him as the two brothers stood face to face in the motel room.

“Really?” Dean arched an eyebrow, preparing himself for a full Sammy bitch-face.

“Yeah, because I’ve been following you around my entire life!” Sam’s words stopped any sarcastic retort Dean was about to make and he just stared at his little brother as he continued,  
“I mean, I’ve been looking up to you since I was 4, Dean. Studying you, trying to be just like my big brother. So yeah, I know you; better then anyone else in the entire world. And this is exactly how you act when you’re terrified. And, I mean, I can’t blame you, it’s just…”

“What?”

After a long pause, Sam continued quietly,  
“I just wish you would drop the show and be my brother again. Cause…just cause.”

0000

Dean awoke with a start, his green eyes fluttering open as he heard the sound of a lock pick turning on the other side of the motel door. Groaning, the older Winchester sat up and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, glancing at his watch and seeing that he had been asleep for well over 3 hours.

“Go away,” He moaned, collapsing back onto the pillow and pressing his arm against his head. He could feel the start of an intense headache coming on and Dean knew it would definitely lead to one hell of a hangover the next day. Before he could shut his eyes and go back to sleep, wanting more then anything to just shut out the dream he had just had, Dean suddenly heard the door to the motel room open and shut, followed by the familiar, gruff voice,

“Damn it, boy.”

Sitting up as the light was turned out, Dean glared in Bobby’s direction,  
“I said I was fine, Bobby-“

“Like hell you are,” The older, gruff hunter interrupted with a shake of his head,  
“You sure like fine to me.” Turning around, he locked the door, but then noticed the unmistakable lack of the salt line lining the doorway,  
“You must really be drunk to have forgotten to salt the doorway, you idjit.”

“Don’t care,” Dean groaned, rubbing his eyes.

“Maybe not, but I do,” Bobby snapped back, glaring right back at the younger boy as he ruffled through Dean’s bag and grabbed the salt,  
“I happen to give a crap about you, Dean, so you’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not losing my other boy, that’s why,” Bobby growled, the glare still present in his eyes as he salted the doorway and the windows,  
“Although I must say…I’m glad you were at least with it enough to book yourself a two bed room.”

Frowning as if he couldn’t understand what Bobby was talking about, Dean glanced over at the empty bed beside him and just for a moment, allowed the sadness and guilt to come over him once again. That was supposed to be Sam’s bed. It was always on instinct that Dean would always book them two beds in whatever flee bag motel they stayed in; it was no different that day. Pushing aside the pain that was creeping back into his heart, Dean closed his eyes again and ignored Bobby as he spoke and wasn’t paying any attention even as the older hunter took a seat on other bed-Sam’s bed. What was the point anyways? It wasn’t like things were going to get better anyways.

0000

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

“Damn it, boy, don’t make me be the one to take the Impala keys from you and force you into my truck,” Bobby snapped heatedly a couple of days later as he stood with Dean outside of the motel beside the Chevy Impala,  
“You’re going to my place and you’re going to stay there whether you like it or not!” He didn’t even flinch as he saw the heated glare the younger boy sent his way,  
“This is not what Sam would want from you-“

“Stop talking about my brother,” Dean interrupted, hatred flaring in his green eyes as he clenched his fists and tightened his hold on the car keys,  
“Unless you want a fist to your jaw, Bobby…”

“You don’t scare you, you idjit,” The older, wiser hunter scoffed as he folded his arms across his chest,  
“I’m going to be following you to my place, so you might as well suck it up and accept that I’m not going to leave your damn side!” Bobby glared right back at Dean as the older Winchester’s face flushed red with anger,  
“And I can talk about Sam as much as I want, Dean; he’s my boy, too, and as much as you want to deny it and say it ain’t so…you weren’t the only one who loved him-“ Before he could finish his words which he knew hit Dean like a punch to the gut, he quickly ducked out of the way as he saw Dean’s fist coming at him. Grabbing his boy’s wrist, Bobby gripped it tightly and wrenched it behind his back with a shake of his head. He knew that over the last few days, ever since he had shown up in Dean’s motel room to find him drunk as a skunk, Dean had wanted nothing more then to drink himself into an oblivion to ease the pain and the younger boy had almost succeeded in doing just that if it wasn’t for Bobby’s stubbornness to keep all the alcohol out of Dean’s reach…which made Dean all the more furious at him, but Bobby didn’t give a rat’s ass. In fact, his own stubbornness was winning out and he knew that Dean knew that,  
“Nice try there, hotshot.” He whispered into the older Winchester brother’s ear as Dean turned his head and glared at him again,  
“Now why don’t you just give up the fight, hand over the liquor you’re hiding, and then we can be on the road, huh?”

“I hate you,” Dean snapped as he wrenched himself out of Bobby’s grasp.

Dean’s words, although they stung, didn’t cause Bobby to back down; he knew that his friend didn’t mean it, that he wouldn’t have even said it if Sam was still here,  
“No you don’t,” He replied and held out his hand, meeting Dean’s stone cold gaze with his own,  
“Now hand it over.”

With a low grown, Dean reached deep into his jacket pocket and pulled out the well-hidden bottle of liquor. He was never planning on drinking and driving; he wasn’t that stupid. But he wasn’t planning on having Bobby follow him on his tail either, so his plan was to pull off into another motel later and just drink until his heart couldn’t heart anymore. Practically throwing the paper bag that held the bottle at the man he always considered a father, Dean turned back on his heel and stalked towards the Impala,  
“Take it.” Not bothering to wait for a reply, he revved the engine and started to pull out, not bothering to give Bobby a second look even as he raced to his own truck.

0000

“Okay, that’s it,” Bobby grumbled to himself as he watched Dean pull off to the side of the road again hours later,  
“The hell are you doing, you moron? You trying to get me off your tail? It ain’t workin’…” Putting his truck into park, he climbed out of the vehicle but left the door open as he hurried over to the driver’s side of Impala. What he saw nearly made his face go red with furry,  
“Dean!”

Dean nearly jumped out of his skin and the liquor bottle he had just pulled out from underneath the passenger seat went flying, splashing the interior of his baby,  
“Damn it, Bobby-“

“How stupid can you be, Dean?” Bobby roared, reaching inside the car and before Dean could stop him, turned the keys in the ignition and shut the car off, taking the keys and sticking them in his jacket pocket,  
“Got out of the damn car, you idiot!” He demanded, opening the car and pulling the younger boy out with him,  
“You’re coming with me.”

“Get off of me, Bobby!” Dean tried to shake the older man off, but Bobby’s grip was firm as he shoved him towards his truck,  
“I’m fine-“

Bobby snorted and kept walking, his grip firm on Dean’s arm,  
“Fine my ASS! The hell do you think you were doing? Did you really think I wouldn’t notice that you were going to drink and drive?”

“I wasn’t going to do that-“

“I saw the alcohol, Dean; don’t talk to me like I’m a fool!” Before the younger hunter could reply back with another smart-ass comment, Bobby opened the passenger side door of the truck and shoved him inside.

“So if you’re so smart, Bobby, what about the Impala?” Dean growled, finding himself stuck as Bobby blocked his way from climbing right back out.

With another snort and roll of his eyes, the gruff hunter snapped,  
“If YOU were so smart, idjit, you’d notice that I was driving my tow truck; I came prepared, Dean, so don’t underestimate me.” With a slam of the passenger side door, Bobby moved around to the driver’s side door and shot an angry glare at his boy,  
“I can’t believe you, Dean…You were trying to kill yourself, weren’t you?”

No response.

Shooting a side glance at the older Winchester, Bobby felt just a little bit of his anger leave him as he watched Dean cross his arms stubbornly over his chest and before he turned to face the window, a shadow of a few tears became visible on his cheeks. Forcing back his own set of emotions as he knew the exact reason why this was all happening to begin with, Bobby lifted his hand and was about to place it on Dean’s shoulder, but immediately drew it back as he didn’t want his head bitten off or a fist to his jaw.

Within a matter of just a few minutes, the tow truck was back on the road, the Chevy Impala hooked up behind Bobby’s truck and the only sound besides the engine of the vehicle was absolute silence.

0000

“You know when we were little, and you couldn’t have been more then five…you just started asking questions. How come we didn’t have a mom? Why did we always have to move around? Where’d dad go, when he’d take off for days at a time? I remember I begged you, ‘Quit asking, Sammy, man, you don’t wanta know’. I just wanted you to be a kid, just for a little while longer,” Dean paused in the middle of his speech as he stared at the dead body of his baby brother,  
“I was trying to protect you. Keep you safe. Dad didn’t even have to tell me, it was just always my responsibility, you know?” The older brother’s voice cracked with emotion as he looked down at his lap briefly before looking back up at Sam’s body,  
“It’s like I had one job. I had one job…and I screwed it up,” His voice cracked some more as he fought to stop the tears that were right at the surface,  
“I blew it. And for that, I’m sorry,” The tears finally came and rolled down his face, which Dean wiped away with his hand before continuing, devastation written clearly on his face,  
“I guess that’s what I do. I let down the people I love. I let dad down…and now I guess I’m just supposed to let you down, too. How can I? How am I supposed to live with that? What am I supposed to do?” Dean’s face scrunched up in agony as he whispered to his little brother, hoping against hope that Sam would be able to answer him,  
“Sammy? What am I supposed to do?” Pushing back his chair, Dean rose to his feet and soon kicked it with fury, shouting out in the empty cabin,  
“What am I supposed to do?!” 

0000

Dean awoke suddenly with a harsh gasp and nearly fell off the couch he was lying on. Feeling sweat pouring down his forehead, the older Winchester wiped his face with his hand and looked around, unable to remember where exactly he was. With a quick look, however, he slowly started to remember the last few days…and the last couple of hours since he had arrived at Bobby Singer’s junkyard.

Pushing aside the memory of his dream, which was hard enough remembering on a daily basis, Dean blinked his eyes wearily and pushed away the blanket that was draped over him, rising to his feet. It was well past 1AM and just from looking out the window, he could tell that Bobby had long gone to bed. The older hunter had offered him the spare bedroom like usual, but Dean was still so angry over what had occurred these last few days, the fights he had with Bobby, he had denied the offer and had taken the couch without a second thought.

After all, if he had slept in the spare room, he would have found himself looking over at the other bed beside him, expecting to see Sammy sound asleep beside him.

Sammy.

Sam…

Feeling like he was going to get sick all over again, Dean rushed to the nearest bathroom on the bottom floor of the house and made it to the toilet just in time to release any and all food he had managed to choke down that day. Minutes passed and after realizing that he thankfully had not woken Bobby up in any way, Dean flushed the toilet and rose back up to his feet, taking a look at himself in the mirror. The reflection staring back at him was that of a person he no longer recognized. Yes, he still looked like he was Dean Winchester, his hair was the same length, but just looking at the sunken, dead green eyes and the shadows underneath them that said that he had not slept well for days. He vaguely remembered how so much life used to be in him, how much energy…and love for Sam.

“Screw it,” He mumbled to himself, turning away from the bathroom mirror and hurrying into the kitchen. Dean knew that Bobby had taken the liquor from him the moment he had found it earlier that day, but the older Winchester brother knew that his friend always had some leftover in his refrigerator. Always. Opening the door, Dean cautiously moved things around before he finally hit what he was looking for.

“Jackpot!” Snatching up the bottle that was hidden behind a loaf of bread and mayonnaise, Dean unscrewed the bottle and took a long swig of it, not letting it leave his mouth until it was nearly empty. Slowly feeling some of the emptiness, some of the pain and loneliness start to leave him, Dean closed his hallow eyes and screwed the cap back on but didn’t put it back in the fridge. Instead, with the lights still turned out in the house, the older brother stalked back into Bobby’s library where his boots and jacket lay and sat back down on the couch to put his boots back on.

He was not going to stay here, he couldn’t stay here. Every single time he looked around this house, every time he closed his eyes, all he saw was Sam. Whenever he saw Bobby Singer, all he saw was his little brother who should be here with them. Blinking hard to ward off any remaining tears that were stubbornly trying to fall, Dean finished tying up his boots clumsily and threw on his jacket before taking one last swig out of the bottle.

Nobody was going to stop him now. Not Bobby, not anybody. Sammy wasn’t here any longer, so his brother couldn’t stop him either.

Rising to his feet once more, Dean tucked the bottle of liquor into his jacket pocket and headed straight for the door, all the while fishing around in his pockets for the Impala’s keys. Ever since he and Bobby had returned to the house hours ago, Dean had to practically wrestle the keys out of his friend’s hands until Bobby had eventually given up only because he knew Dean would give him a black eye or a broken jaw if he didn’t. Finally finding them, the older Winchester folded the car keys in his trembling fingers and walked out onto the front porch, stepping over the salt line as he did so. Not bothering to lock the door up, Dean set his mouth into a firm, straight line and walked straight over to the Impala.

0000

Dean threw his shoulder bag onto the chair beside the door of the motel room hours later and shut and locked the door behind him. Despite the exhaustion and fatigue flowing through every fiber of his being, he dug into the bag to retrieve the can of salt and was careful this time to make sure it was spread out in front of the door and on the window sill. Quickly making sure that his cell phone was turned off as the last thing he wanted was to allow Bobby the perfect opportunity again to find him and track him down, Dean threw the phone onto the table and collapsed onto one of the two beds in the room. Instead of going to sleep, however, he looked down at the ugly yellow carpet and down at the second bag he had brought in with him.

Sam’s bag.

It had been nearly two weeks now since his baby brother had fallen willingly into Lucifer’s Cage and he had yet to even attempt to go through his bag. First of all, he felt it was an invasion of his brother’s privacy and second, he was feeling enough agony, enough guilt and pain; going through it and finding his brother’s close and all of his personal belongings he brought with him on every hunting trip would just make him feel ten times worse…if that was even possible.

Reaching into his jacket pocket, Dean pulled out the bottle of the remaining liquor he had taken from Bobby’s refrigerator and unscrewed the cap, drowning the remaining liquid, all the while ignoring the burning feeling in the back of his throat. He sucked in a sharp breath as he set the empty bottle back down on the bed and reached down to retrieve Sam’s bag. Wrapping his fingers around the handle, he slowly lifted it and placed it onto the ugly yellow bed spread. Minutes passed as Dean just stared silently at the bag, his heart aching as he ran his fingers over the bag.

Finally taking a deep, shaky breath, Dean closed his green eyes for a brief moment before taking a hold of the zipper of the bag and opened it. The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was his brother’s laptop sitting on top of neatly folded clothes. As he removed the laptop and set it carefully, gently, beside him on the bed, Dean reached down and pulled out one of his brother’s favorite button down flannel shirts and brought it up to his nose, taking in Sam’s familiar scene. His heavy heart thumped loudly in his ears and he felt the tears that were threatening again fall and land with a splash on the blue flannel. Ignoring his emotions as he allowed the tears to fall rapidly, Dean placed the shirt in his lap as if it was Sam himself and reached back inside the bag to remove the rest of his little brother’s shirts and jeans. His hand suddenly came across a plastic bag nestled at the very bottom and with a curious frown, the older brother carefully pulled it out and his widened at just how heavy the bag was.

There, resting in his hands inside the bag, were pieces and pieces of paper and envelopes and what looked like old pictures if Dean’s eyes weren’t deceiving him. Unfolding the plastic that was wrapped carefully around the items, Dean’s curiosity got the better of him and he dumped everything out in front of him.

“Oh my God…” Dean whispered tearfully to himself as he lifted up the first couple of envelopes and let his eyes skim over his own familiar handwriting on the envelope which was dated over 7 years ago back when Sammy was still at Stanford.

A couple of birthday cards, letters…As Dean opened up each envelope and took a peek at each card that he had sent and re-read what he had written all those years ago, his eyes skimmed back over to the envelope and saw Sam’s own handwriting.

“20th Birthday, card from Dean.”

“21st Birthday, card from Dean.”

Feeling himself start to hyperventilate as he placed the cards carefully back in the envelope as if they were the most delicate items ever, Dean placed his hand over his mouth and closed his eyes. He had been absolutely certain that Sam had never kept any of those cards; hell, he was so sure that his brother never even bothered to read them! He had thought that once Sam noticed he received mail from his big brother, it would go instantly in the recycle like it was garbage. But now, finding out that Sam not only read the cards, but KEPT them in his bag as well…?

Dean lifted a trembling hand and finally wiped away the tears flowing from his eyes as he just now noticed that the water was making things difficult to see. Setting down the cards, he reached over and found a large stack of pictures, some yellowed with age and some which were taken pretty recently within the last couple of years.

A snapshot of him and Sam wrestling on the guest bed at Bobby’s.

Dean holding up a slice of pie at one of the many diners they stopped at while in the middle of a hunt.

A four-year old Dean holding a baby Sam in his lap.

Dean holding his brother in a choke hold in the middle of Bobby’s library.

A very rare moment of affection between the two brothers, one that had to have been taken by Bobby or John himself when he had been alive. Whichever it was, Dean couldn’t remember; he didn’t care. All he saw in the snapshot was his own arms wrapped around his little brother in a rare hug. A hug which Dean wished more then anything he had given to his brother before he had taken that fateful jump…Flipping the picture over, Dean’s heart broke in half as he took in Sam’s handwriting on the back.

“My big brother and I. My hero.”

Knowing that he was on the verge of having a complete mental breakdown, Dean pushed himself forward and lifted up the loose pieces of paper which were laying just underneath the photos. None of the pieces of paper were in envelopes; instead, they were all either folded up neatly or just lying there loosely. He picked up the first piece of paper and unfolded it carefully, taking in Sam’s handwriting and looking at the date.

2005\. 2004. The years that Sam was at Stanford…but why had Sam kept these…? Before Dean had time to even think about what this meant, his name on the piece of paper caught his eye and he thought for sure his heart stopped beating for a moment as he read.

“Dear Dean,  
I’m not sure you’ll even keep this or you’ll just throw it away once you get it in the mail. It doesn’t matter to me, though. Today is the day of registration and I just got settled into my dorm room; my roommate hasn’t shown up yet and I just realized how lonely it is here. It’s lonely without you, Dean. I’m so sorry I left without a second thought, without at least giving you a proper goodbye. I never wanted to hurt you. That’s why I’m writing this because you need to know the truth and hear it from me instead of dad. You’re my big brother, Dean; you’re my best friend and my hero. You’re the last person I wanted to leave. I just wanted to leave the life, but not you. Never you. I know it’s never said between us, but I love you, big brother, I always have and I always will-“

Dean couldn’t read anymore and he felt his vision blur with tears again as he set the letter aside and went to the next one. Again, it was dated in 2004. And once again, it was addressed to him.

“Dear Dean,  
You need to know that I never meant to hurt you or to leave without saying a proper goodbye to you. It wasn’t what I wanted. It was the last thing I ever wanted to do. As a matter of fact, all that I wanted was for you to come with me, I wouldn’t care if you even shared my dorm room with me. I just wanted my big brother by my side-“

Unable to continue, Dean rose to his feet and pushed aside the reaming pieces of paper. His vision was now blurred with never-ending tears as he ran his trembling fingers through his short hair. Feeling his heart shatter into a million pieces all over again, Dean was unable to control himself and with a shout of rage, he picked up the bottle that was on the bed and threw it against the wall, watching it shatter.

0000

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

6 months later…

Bobby Singer growled to himself in frustration as he once again hung up the phone and slumped down wearily in his desk chair. He took his cap off of his head and ran a hand over his face, his mind going back over the voice mail that once again sounded in his ear. Dean’s voice mail. 

The older hunter had thought it would be best for Dean if he just left him alone for the time being; all those months ago after Bobby had found that his friend had left in the middle of the night-with liquor, no less-he had been worried as hell and angry with himself. It should have been totally obvious that Dean was not going to stay at his house that night, how stupid was he to think it was possible? He knew back then he should have just taken the Impala’s keys, threats or not threats, and stashed them in a place Dean never would have found them. But he didn’t, and for that, Bobby regretted with everything in him.

Because just a few short hours later, Dean was gone and Bobby hadn’t seen him since.

The gruff hunter had tried everything to get a hold of his friend, to try and help him, to take care of him and make sure Dean didn’t kill himself in the process. But the longer and harder he tried, it was like the younger boy just slipped further and further away from him. There was only one person who could help Dean and that person wasn’t there. Sam wasn’t there. Sam was in Hell and that was the very reason Dean was acting the way he was.

Bobby shut his eyes and rested his forehead in his hands, shaking his head. It didn’t take the older hunter long to realize that Dean had shut his phone off as if to send a message to him, to stop trying to contact him. He didn’t want to be found. But being just as stubborn as the Winchesters, Bobby refused to give up until weeks went by and there was still nothing from the older Winchester. He had always known that Dean’s bond with Sam went beyond just a big brother taking care of his little brother; it was much stronger then any type of relationship Bobby had ever witnessed, from the time John Winchester had shown up on his doorstep with the two rugrats until the present day. The way Dean devoted himself, took care of his baby brother and literally gave his soul for…Bobby should have known that this was something that he couldn’t fix. He couldn’t just put a Band-Aid on Dean’s wound that was open for the entire world to see; he couldn’t fix it with a fatherly hug and words of comfort. No, this could only be fixed by Sam alone and there was nothing he could do about it.

“Damnit, you idjit,” Bobby whispered to himself as he placed his cap back on his head and stared at his phone,  
“I’m so sorry.” 

But heaven help him. He knew that he couldn’t fix Dean, but he still loved and cared for the boy just like he did Sam and he would be damned to fully give up on him. He would be there for the younger boy whenever he agreed to talk with him again. He would take care of him just like Dean had always taken care of Sam.

0000

“Watch where you’re going there, boy!”

Dean ignored the voice snapping at him as he stumbled out of the bar and bumped into a large, muscled figure. He didn’t even look up. What was the point anyway? It wasn’t like anything mattered anymore. The older Winchester tightened his grip on the beer bottle he held tightly in his hand as he tripped over his own feet down the sidewalk.

“You need a lift there, sonny?” The same voice shouted back, but Dean just looked over his shoulder and shot the man a glare of death without saying a word.

He didn’t need any lifts; he didn’t need anybody taking care of him. Everybody just needed to mind their own damn business and let him be. His glare hardened at the man, silently telling him to back off and once he had disappeared into the bar, Dean turned back around and walked down the sidewalk, lifting the bottle to his lips and taking a long drink.

This was his new best friend. Nobody was going to take it away from him like they did with Sammy…

Sammy.

Just the very thought of the name sent a wave of pain and agony through Dean’s gut and he doubled over onto his knees on the sidewalk. He gasped for air as his little brother’s name repeated itself over and over in his mind.

Sam. Hell. Sammy. Lucifer’s Cage. Hell.

The drunk Winchester felt like he was going to collapse as the beer bottle fell from his hand and spilled over the sidewalk. But right now, Dean didn’t really care about that. That could wait, he could always buy another one that evening. His brother’s name and where he was stuck kept mocking him as Dean placed his hands on either side of his head and groaned in agony. If any other human being walked by and said anything to him, Dean didn’t notice or he just didn’t pay any attention. Why would they care about an old drunk like himself?

“You idjit, what the hell do you think you’re doing to yourself? Sam would not want this from you! What would he think if he saw you like this? What if he suddenly came back and he found you passed out of your mind?”

Bobby’s voice lectured him inside his head and all Dean wanted to do was scream out loud for the voice of his friend to stop; this was the thing he needed. Didn’t Bobby know that of course Dean knew Sam would be disappointed in him? But Sam wasn’t there. Sam was in Lucifer’s Cage, burning, screaming for help and there was absolutely nothing Dean could do about it.

Feeling his stomach churn once again, Dean stayed on his hands and knees as he felt the little food he had consumed that day come up and out. Panting with exhaustion and fatigue, Dean lifted a hand and wiped the spit from his mouth and attempted to lift himself to his feet once again. Not caring that he was still wobbling, or the fact that he had just hurled right near the entrance to the bar, Dean slowly made his way down the street, his heart and head hurting even more now then it ever did before.

0000

Hours later, Dean stumbled over the asphalt of the motel, steps unsure as his mind played games on him over and over again. A fresh bottle of beer was clutched in his hand as he made his way past the Chevy Impala and towards the room he was still staying in. He knew that he was bound to get kicked out any day now; each day for the past few days, the manager had been demanding payment for extra days spent in the motel and it must have been due to sympathy for Dean’s state of mind that he and his bags hadn’t been thrown out yet. 

As his hand shook as he opened the door to the motel room, ignoring the final warning on the door, Dean growled to himself as his phone suddenly rang,  
“Son of a bitch,” He hissed. He must have forgotten to turn the darn thing off again…or he had somehow turned it back on and didn’t know it. Flinging his jacket onto the bed that Sam usually occupied, Dean fumbled in his pocket for his cell phone and took a look at the screen name.

Bobby.

Of course it was Bobby. When wasn’t it Bobby? The old man was bugging him endlessly for the first few weeks and months after he had managed to escape the junkyard and it was just a while ago that he seemed to have finally gotten the hint. Why the hell was he calling now? Growling under his breath, Dean hit the “Reject” button on the phone and turned his cell off again, all the while cursing himself.

“That’s better, isn’t it, beautiful?” Dean flopped down on the bed and grabbed the bottle of beer he had thrown down and tilted his head back, allowing the liquid to flow down his throat as if it was soda instead of alcohol,  
“Just you and me now, no Bobby Singer to interrupt this time…” He smacked his lips hard as he finished off the remaining beer and threw it across the room, watching in satisfaction as it hit the television set and bounced onto the carpeted floor,  
“Not even my brother is here to lecture me…I mean, really…he’d be wringing my neck right about now, I know it!” He let out a harsh laugh which soon turned into a sob and before Dean knew it, he had leaned his head back on the bed and closed his eyes, allowing just a few tears to escape them,  
“Sammy…”

Lifting a trembling hand up to reach for the amulet around his neck, Dean frowned in confusion as all he felt was his t-shirt. No black cord, no golden amulet. It was gone. His heart thumping loudly, Dean sat straight up and looked down his shirt and on the floor, hoping that it somehow had fallen off when he didn’t realize it. Maybe he had been so drunk lately he didn’t even pay attention if it fell of or not? 

“No,” The older Winchester’s drunken mind suddenly flashed back to hours ago, at the bar he had left. He slowly remembered how he had thrown a punch at one of the men who was making wise cracks; he had missed due to the state he was in, but he remembered how the man had grabbed for the collar of his shirt, but Dean hadn’t paid any attention to it. He didn’t pay any attention as the amulet had been torn from his neck,  
“No!” He roared, fumbling with his shirt and looking under the bed and in his pockets, but it was nowhere to be found. As he rose shakily to his feet, a loud pounding on the wall sounded and an annoyed voice shouted.

“Hey! Some people are trying to sleep here!”

“Shut the hell up!” Dean shouted back, lifting his palm and slamming it against the wall in reply,  
“I’ll do what I want, WHEN I want!” Pounding once more, he turned back around and started pacing around the room. This was not happening, it couldn’t be happening. He had just gotten that necklace back from Sam; he couldn’t lose it again! 

Dean’s head was pounding as loudly as the pounding of his heart; it was killing him. There was nothing to do, what was there to do? Feeling lightheaded, the older Winchester grabbed onto a nearby chair, attempting to keep himself from falling over, but was too late as he soon felt his eyes sliding shut as he slumped to the floor.

0000

“Gotcha, boy,” Bobby murmured quietly to himself as he stared at the computer screen in relief. It had taken lots more tries, but finally, the older hunter had finally managed to call at a time when Dean’s phone was turned on and although his friend didn’t pick up, he was able to track his cell phone’s location,  
“About damn time…”

Staring at the screen, Bobby examined the location Dean was currently in and his instantly leapt into his throat. Figured. Where else would his boy be during this horrible time in his life? Tears that the gruff hunter rarely ever shed welled up in his dark eyes and rolled down his face and into his beard as he shook his head in sadness.

Lawrence, Kansas.

0000

The hangover was more intense that following morning then Dean had ever experience and after having been finally kicked out of his motel room due to complaints from the asses next door, the older Winchester knew there was only one place he needed to go. A place that would at least make him feel at least a little bit closer to his baby brother. As he drove, one hand on the steering wheel, the other was fumbling with the neck of the shirt he had worn the night before, feeling around once again for the lost amulet but not finding anything there.

Throughout the months, the hunter had become so keen on just making sure he got his daily doses of alcohol that showering, shaving and even getting something as simple as a haircut was out of the question. It wasn’t like there was anybody around him that knew him. He did know that if Bobby saw him, he’d get his ass kicked so far, it would be sent to kingdom come for all he knew…and if not, it would be sent straight back to his friend’s house.

Rubbing his hand over his face which was no longer clean shaven, but was now sporting the start of a beard, Dean stepped on the gas peddle of the Impala, not caring in the least how fast he was going. That didn’t matter, all that mattered was that he got to the cemetery.

Minutes passed before Dean finally pulled the Chevy Impala through the familiar gates of the cemetery. The very same cemetery he had driven her through all those months ago back when Sammy had been possessed by Lucifer, when he had been fighting to gain control of the son of a bitch…when his baby brother had taken the ultimate dive straight into Hell for all eternity.

Not bothering to shut and lock his beloved car, Dean climbed shakily out of the Impala and just stared at the familiar spot where he had last seen Sam. Where the ground had open up in front of both of them, where Sam had shared his last words with him although he didn’t say anything back. Where Sam himself had dragged himself, Lucifer and Michael into the pit. Why hadn’t Dean made one final move to stop him? Who cared if he was beaten to a pulp by the devil? His brother mattered more to him then anybody else, he should have been able to stop him!

Falling to his knees, just like he had done right after the Cage had closed up forever, Dean collapsed on the ground for the second time in less then 24 hours…only this time, he was mourning the loss of the only member left of his family. His little brother. The same chubby faced kid he had sworn to protect with this life.

“I’m sorry, Sammy,” He whispered, his voice trembling madly,  
“I’m so, so sorry…I disappointed you to no end. If you saw me right now, man…” Dean shook his head in misery,  
“If you saw me, you’d be disgusted…” He lifted a hand and wiped away the tears that were now falling,  
“I lost the amulet again, Sam…I’m so sorry…I’m such a fool, man…” His voice cracked as he lowered his head,  
“I miss you so much…I just miss you so much…” The older brother lifted his hand to his face again and let out a choked sob before wiping away the remaining tears,  
“I told you before that I let down the people I love, Sammy. This is just proof that that is exactly what I do, what I’ve always done. I should’ve saved you, brother…”

Silence filled the air and just as Dean lifted his head, his heart suddenly stopped as he looked out across the cemetery and saw a tall figure standing there. Just standing there. Dean squinted in the morning sunlight and tilted his head. Maybe he was still drunk; or better yet, maybe he needed another drink. Because there was no way in heaven or hell that he was seeing Sam across from him.

Blinking his eyes and rubbing his throbbing head, Dean closed his eyes and opened them again to find that the figure he thought was there was suddenly gone as if it was never there.

“Must be the booze,” Dean muttered to himself as he pulled a new bottle of alcohol out of his jacket pocket,  
“I’m sorry you have to see this, Sam…” Screwing off the cap, Dean threw his head back and chugged down the alcohol, all images of Sam still firmly imprinted in his brain.

0000

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Dean paid no attention to how fast he was driving, where he was driving or the fact that he was now leaving the state of Kansas. Away from the graveyard and away from the final place he had last seen Sam…both in hallucination and when he had taken the swan dive months ago. His breath reeked of liquor as the Impala swerved along the lonely stretch of road and the “Welcome to Kansas” sign passed by him in a blur. 

His vision blurring with tears and his heart racing rapidly in time to the loud rock music blasting his eardrums, Dean drunkenly swerved the car over to the side of the road and shut it off. Before he had left the cemetery, after he was so certain he had seen his little brother before he had disappeared, Dean had sat in the same spot for hours, drinking until he couldn’t drink anymore; until it got dark outside and he knew he had to leave here. Fumbling around under the seat, the older Winchester shakily pulled out another large bottle of liquor and unscrewed the cap. Just as he was about to take another long swig, however, a voice beside him nearly caused him to drop the bottle.

“What the hell are you doing, Dean?”

Jumping in shock, Dean’s mouth fell open as he took in the familiar figure of his brother sitting beside him in the Impala, arms crossed and his eyes narrowed in an angry glare. Blinking his eyes rapidly and rubbing them with the back of his hand, Dean shook his head and looked again to find nothing there.

No little brother.

No Sam.

Just him, the Impala and the bottle still clenched in his trembling hands.

“Impossible,” Dean shook his head,  
“You’re losing it, Winchester,” He unscrewed the cap and before the hallucinations could come back, he took a long swig and felt relief as the burning liquid flowed down his throat,  
“Better yet, you’ve already lost it…”

“I said, what the hell are you doing?” 

Dean nearly shouted out loud in shock as the nearly empty bottle tumbled out of his hands and spilled over the interior of the Impala,  
“The hell…?”

“You’re drinking yourself sick, Dean,” Hallucination Sam spoke, his voice sharper then Dean had ever heard it,  
“Why are you doing this to yourself, huh?” The figure demanded with a lift of an eyebrow.

Dean bit his lip and looked the figure up on down, taking in the familiarity of it. Hallucination Sam was dressed in the exact same clothes his brother had worn the day he had last seen him, all the way down to the same jacket and shoes. The hair was the same length, barely down to his shoulders and the hazel eyes were locked on him, but they carried a hardness, a coldness Dean had never seen in his brother before.

“You’re not real,” Dean mumbled to himself as he ran a hand down his face,  
“You’re not real…” He closed his green eyes and then opened them again to find that the seat was once again empty,  
“Huh…” Ignoring the liquor bottle and the stains that were now evident in his beloved car, his baby, Dean turned the car back on, preparing to move back onto the road,  
“Knew it wasn’t real…” Glancing in the rearview mirror, Dean chewed on his bottom lip and forced himself to keep it together as the Hallucination Sam appeared once again in the back seat. Looking away, pretending it wasn’t there, Dean sucked in a sharp breath and let it out. As he drove on down the highway, every few minutes that passed, he would look continuously in the mirror and the familiar figure of Sam would still be there.

But this time, he did nothing about it.

0000

“You’re telling me you’ve never seen this boy?” Bobby demanded, a low growl in his voice as he held out the picture of Dean that he carried in his wallet. The picture of both of his boys, of Sam and Dean, rested behind it, but the gruff hunter refused to pull it out. Just looking at any picture of his youngest, or better yet, of a smiling Dean, made Bobby’s heart hurt and nearly made him want to throw up; so instead, he settled for the recent photo of Dean.

Leaning over the counter of the bar, his wallet stretched out to the bartender who was covered in tattoos, Bobby watched her every move as she closely examined the photograph and shook her head,  
“I’ve only been here a week, sir,” She answered back, her voice more gentle as she watched the concern grow on the older man’s face,  
“I don’t know the regulars’ faces very well yet-“

“Hey, I’ve seen that guy!” A different voice interrupted from behind Bobby, causing the hunter to whirl around, dark eyes narrowed at the bulky man standing there,  
“He was here just the other day. Got into a fight with the bastard, gave me this black eye,” He pointed to the blue and purple marking around his eye, a smirk on his face,  
“Bastard left without this, I might’ve torn it from his neck,” He reached into the pocket of his leather jacket and pulled out the familiar looking amulet, letting it dangle from his fingers,  
“I assume you might know what the hell this is?”

Bobby forced back tears as he looked at the little gold amulet hanging from the guy’s fingers and his heart broke,  
“Oh Dean…” He whispered to himself, ignoring the confused look on both the bartender’s and the younger guy’s faces. Forcing himself to keep it together, Bobby reached out and snatched the necklace,  
“Gimme that.” Looking down at the necklace Dean had only recently started wearing again after he had found it in his duffle, Bobby examined the ripped cord and shook his head as he stuffed it into his pocket,  
“Any idea where he went after that?”

Shrugging his shoulders, the younger man rolled his eyes and took a swig of his beer,  
“What do I look like, his keeper? He staggered out of here like he couldn’t stand on his own two feet.” He let out a harsh laugh and turned back around to his friends were had started calling to him.

“Is he alright?” The bartender asked, deep concern etching into her voice.

Ignoring the question, Bobby glanced at her as he headed towards the door,  
“Thanks for your time.” With that, he turned and headed out the door and back to his truck,  
“Damn it, Dean…”

0000

On normal days, the flickering of the light in this cheep-ass motel room would have bothered the shit out of him. On normal days, he even would have gone straight to the motel lobby and demanded somebody fix it and fix it now. On normal days, Dean would have CARED.

But there were no normal days anymore and Dean didn’t care anymore. There was nothing in his life to care about, except that he had to make sure that his cell phone was turned off at all times. He couldn’t have Bobby checking up on him and tracking him down again; that wasn’t going to happen.

Laying on his back on the puke orange sheets of the motel bed, Dean was staring at the cracked ceiling as he lifted the bottle to his lips again and took a long swig, drowning the entire thing in one long drink. As always, although it did nothing to soothe the deep loneliness in his heart or the depression that he had sunk into, Dean had to smile at the burning sensations it always made him feel. Lifting his hand, he threw the now empty bottle across the room and listened without cringing as it shattered against the wall, joining the other remaining bottles littering the floor.

It had been several weeks and he was so close to once again getting kicked out of this shitty motel room; he was so close to being homeless as he refused to pay for any extra days he stayed here. But Dean could care less about that. Hell, if they kicked him out, he’d just settle in his car and drink there…

“You still there?” His voice slurred as he glanced over to the other bed and saw Sam nestled there, ankles crossed and arms crossed across his chest,  
“You are.”

“I am,” Dean watched as his brother rolled his eyes to the ceiling,  
“You really think I’m going anywhere, you ol’ drunk?”

“Nah,” The older Winchester mumbled to himself, pulling another bottle from the end table and unscrewing the cap,  
“I don’t care anyways…”

“Then why don’t you just end it all?” Sam snapped back, lifting an eyebrow,  
“You’re so helpless, Dean; you’re on the verge of dying anyways with the way you’re going about. Just get it over with, it would do us a world of good, especially yourself.” His voice softened a notch,  
“I mean, if it’s what you want to do, of course.”

“Of course,” Dean repeated,   
“It’s my decision, isn’t it?” He laughed humorlessly as he sat up straight and leaned his back against the headboard,  
“I’m probably gonna just pass out and die anyways…” He shrugged his shoulders and looked back over at the bed, sighing as the bed was now empty,  
“Figured.” He rose shakily to his feet and walked around to the other side of the room to the nasty excuse for a bathroom, looking at himself in the mirror. It had been weeks, months even, since he had last shaved; his hair hadn’t been cut in much too long and he had been wearing the same damn clothes every day ever since he had left Lawrence. If anybody saw him on the street, which they have, they would consider him a homeless person and would offer him some cash which he had greedily accepted without a second thought. That was how he had managed to snag a motel room, despite how nasty it was; but he had run out of that money to pay for the room. Every penny had been spent on his drinks and an occasional burger; that was more important then sleep. More important then taking care of himself. 

And Sam had followed him everywhere he had gone. At first, Dean was so certain that his little brother was a hallucination, that he wasn’t there; but the more he saw him, the more he appeared next to him when he least expected it, the more Dean had started to converse with the figure as if it was really there.

Sam had to be there with him, he was having conversation with his brother, wasn’t he? Every now and then, his brother would say harsh words, mean words, that Sam would have never said to him. On any given day, it would have caused Dean’s heart to break at just hearing those words.

But his heart was already broken. It was already shattered. What did it matter if it continued? 

It didn’t. And it never would.

As he ran a hand down his full beard and mustache that he had grown, chuckling to himself at the mere sight of his reflection, a loud rapping on the motel room door sounded and Dean growled out into the hall,  
“Go away!”

“Management! Open up!”

Groaning to himself, Dean rolled his eyes to the ceiling and stumbled over to the door, unlocking and unbolting the door. It took a few minutes as his fingers fumbled with the locks before he opened the door and came face to face with a pissed off manager.

“Yeah?” Dean leaned against the door jam, looking down at his feet. Usually, a salt line would have been spread right there; it would have been spread out on the windshield. But not these days,  
“What’dya want?” He slurred, not trying to keep the view of the beer bottles out of the manager’s view.

“This is your final warning, Mr. Winchester,” The manager narrowed his eyes sternly at his customer,  
“Pay up right here, right now, or get out of here. We’ve also had way too many complaints about you-“

“Haven’t done anything wrong,” Dean interrupted with a careless shrug.

“I’d say I see things differently,” The manager replied, folding his arms across his chest,  
“But that’s beside the point. Pay up or get out.”

Huffing, the older Winchester smirked at the older man before giving him a shove, which normally would have been hard, but with his drunken state, it came out as weak,  
“Try and make me, old man.” He laughed as the older man glared at him,  
“Ya wanta fight?”

His patience now completely gone, the manager shook his head and turned back around to head back down the walkway,  
“Be out of here within the hour or I’m calling the cops and they’ll personally escort you out.”

0000

Dean stood in the doorway to the cabin, green eyes open wide with amazement or held more emotion then he had ever experienced since that day his little brother had died,  
“Sammy?” He watched as confusion contorted Sam’s face as well as pain as he lowered his shirt, which held a large blood stain in the middle of the back,  
“Thank God…”

“Hey,” Sam’s eyebrows furrowed as he watched his big brother walk towards him and wrap him up in a tight hug, clinging tightly to him.

“It’s him! It’s him, Sam! I’ve been through this already, it’s REALLY him!” Bobby kept a firm group around Sam’s shoulders but loosened somewhat as he felt his friend stop struggling. Felt him stop attempting to attack Dean, who he knew the younger boy thought was a demon.

“Wait…” Sam uttered, shock registering all over his handsome face.

“I know,” Dean’s voice was soft as he moved away from the wall, taking a more certain step towards his brother who he had not seen in 4 long agonizing months,  
“I look fantastic, huh?” A smile crossed his own face and he watched as Sam’s eyes filled with a few tears as he stepped forward and engulfed him in a huge bear hug.

Wrapping his arms just as tight around his baby brother who he had gone to Hell for, Dean closed his eyes as he felt Sam’s shoulders shaking. His heart filling with such love for this kid, the older brother tightened his arms around him and pulled him closer to his chest, not willing to release him just yet.

0000

Awakening with a harsh gasp, Dean nearly hit his head on the roof of the Impala as he looked wildly around him, taking in the deserted parking lot he was parked in that night. He glanced in the passenger seat and in the rearview mirror, but for right now, the familiar figure, the hallucination, whatever the hell you want to call it, was not there. He was alone.

Alone in his car, which was now littered with countless beer bottles and a few burger wrappers. He hadn’t even bothered to clean out the Impala or even give her a wash. It had been days since he had taken to sleeping in his car and was now practically just living off of beer and burgers whenever he managed to scrounge up some money from pedestrians. Visiting the bars was out of the question now, he would most likely get his ass kicked out before he even set foot in the joint; so playing pool to earn any money wasn’t even possible.

Allowing his dreams to drift through his mind, the dreams of those reunions he had had with his baby brother a few years ago, Dean leaned his head back against the drivers seat and closed his eyes.

“Sammy…” He mumbled incoherently to himself. How he wished he could go back to those memories, to feel his brother in his arms again; to at least hold him one final time…  
“Sam…” Dean repeated, his face now scrunching up in misery as he drifted back off to sleep, tears now falling freely down his face.

0000

Bobby was exhausted. He was drained.

But sleep was the last thing on his mind right now. He wasn’t leaving Lawrence, Kansas until he found Dean; he didn’t care how long it took or what steps he had to take. He was going to find his boy, he was going to help him, get him better if it was the last thing he did.

Glancing at the time and seeing that it was after midnight, Bobby yawned tiredly and picked up his phone again, dialing Dean’s number and found that again it was turned off. Knowing it was pointless to even bother leaving a voice message, Bobby patiently snapped the phone shut and leaned back in his chair in the motel room,  
“I’m going to find you, boy. I’m going to find you, I’m going to get you help and then we’ll help Sam together.” He fiddled with the black cord of the amulet he had managed to put back together,  
“I promise.”

0000

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

“I’m tellin’ ya, Dean, why are you even bothering trying to get money from these people?” Sam nodded over his shoulder at the pedestrians that were walking by on the sidewalk,  
“Just steal it. They’re not going to do you any good-“

“Shut up, Sam,” Dean snapped back as he leaned up against the brick wall of the building and glanced down at the small bucket which lay at his feet. Only some spare change lay in there, but hell, it was better then nothing,  
“You’re not helping any.” He lifted his bottle of beer to his lips and took a long swig, ignoring the curious and even somewhat frightened glances of people walking by him,  
“Besides, it’s easier this way…” He lifted his hollow, empty green eyes upwards as a small family walked by him and the young child stopped and stared,  
“Got a problem there, kid? Never seen a homeless drunk before?” He tilted his head back and laughed as the mother grabbed her child’s arm and dragged her away.

“I told you before, don’t talk or even look at those people!” She hissed, shooting a disgusted look in Dean’s direction,  
“You’ll end up just like that man.” Huffing, she turned back around and stormed away, daughter in tow.

“Hm, looks like you’re not making very good impressions there, big brother,” Sam chuckled, his back leaning up against the building as he shook his head,  
“Wonder what it could be? Maybe it’s the hair, the drinking, the fact that you reek…when was the last time you showered, Dean?”

“Doesn’t matter, Sam,” Dean shook his head, pushing aside any thoughts in his head that would cause him to care again,  
“None of it matters. So why don’t you sit down, shut up and help me get some money, huh? I’m almost on my last one,” He shook the bottle,  
“I’ve gotta get more.” He looked up at his brother and shouted,  
“Give me some more, damnit!”

“Kid! How many times do I have to tell you? If you want to haul your drunk ass up beside my store, at least keep your voice down!” A grumpy voice sounded from above Dean and he looked up with a livid glare.

“Mind your own business, old man,” He snapped, drowning the final amounts of liquid, savoring the burning sensation,  
“I’m not doing your shitty building any harm. Am I Sammy?”

The older man’s eyebrows creased together as he looked next to the drunken younger man and shook his head in what could only be concern now,  
“Who the hell you talking to, boy?”

“My brother!” Dean nodded over to a smirking Sam,  
“Who do ya think?” Now ignoring the older man, Dean grabbed the bucket at his feet and dumped it into his palm, counting the little bit of money he had,  
“Looks like I might have enough for one more bottle.” 

“Buddy, I don’t know what happened to you…” The other man interrupted, taking a cautious step forward,  
“I don’t know who you think is there…but you need help-“

“I don’t need anybody’s help!” The older Winchester snapped, his voice slurring and he tilted his head back and laughed loudly,  
“That’s awesome…he actually thinks Dean Winchester needs help, Sam.” Now completely ignoring the man, he rose to his feet shakily and gestured for his brother to follow him,  
“Let’s go, Sam.” He waited until Sam was right beside him before he took off just as the sky opened up and dumped what looked liked a years’ worth of rain on them. Not paying the slightest attention that he had left his leather jacket in the car or the fact that his longer hair was now plastered to his face and dripping wet, Dean continued walking until he reached the nearest liquor store on the corner of the street and walked inside. Within a matter of moments, he was back outside in the torrential downpour and with a smirk at the bottle he now held in his hand, Dean flopped down carelessly on the sidewalk. Letting his feet stick out in front of him, not caring that he was a sitting duck that could very well trip people at any time, Dean drowned the first half of the bottle within seconds and sighed,  
“That’s more like it.”

0000

Bobby Singer’s dark eyes were growing heavier and heavier by the minute. He couldn’t remember when he had last chosen to get more then an hour of sleep at a time; every single day was filled with more and more research on trying to find Dean, but to no luck. He was starting to wonder if the younger boy was even in Lawrence anymore. Hell, he had been here long enough by now and despite how many times he had driven around the city trying to find that familiar Chevy Impala, there was nothing. 

It was like Dean had disappeared off the face of the earth. It was like he had picked up on Bobby’s trying to find him and had skipped down before he could get caught.

Running a hand over his head and letting his cap fall off his head, the gruff hunter mumbled to himself,  
“My God, boy…what in God’s name are you doing to yourself?” Before he could think anymore, his cell phone rang and he leaped to it without even bothering to look at the name,  
“Dean?!”

“Guess again, you ol’ fart.”

Grumbling to himself, Bobby slumped down on the motel bed and leaned his head in his hand,  
“Rufus, I told you, you need to keep this line open in case Dean calls-“

“I know that, genius,” Rufus interrupted, the line filled with static as he spoke,  
“I’ll make this quick. But I thought you should know that I don’t think Dean is there in Kansas anymore-“

“No shit, Sherlock,” Bobby snapped, glaring at the wall in front of him,  
“I’ve been driving around here like a chicken with its head cut off and there’s squat! Tell me something that actually useful, Rufus!”

“Alright, alright, don’t get your panties in a knot, Singer,” Rufus growled over the phone,  
“I’ve been doing some research like you have, and I’ve gotten some leads that that our boy just might have taken a trip to Nebraska.”

“What makes you say that?” Bobby demanded, rising to his feet.

Rufus snorted,  
“I drove to Nebraska the other night, Singer, because it’s one of the states closest to Kansas; I don’t think Dean would go too horribly far from Lawrence, especially if he still wants to be within driving distance of where he last saw Sam. Anyways, there has been talk here and there about some drunk who causes a lot of ruckus, who refuses to pay for most meals and is constantly talking to himself. Think that sounds like something Dean Winchester would do?”

Frowning in deep concern, Bobby paced the carpet back and forth,  
“Talking to himself? Since I last saw that boy, he was never talking to himself. Drunk yes and I sometimes thought he was having conversations with his liquor bottle, but…”

“Maybe he’s seeing his brother?”

“A hallucination of his brother, you mean?” Silence greeted the older hunter over the phone and he collapsed on the desk chair beside the window,  
“Oh my God…”

“It’s possible, right?” Rufus continued, the static growing on the other end of the line,  
“Listen, Singer, I’ve gotta get going. I’ll call if I hear anything more. Stay in Lawrence though; I might be wrong about all of this and he might still be there.”

“Right,” Bobby replied as he hung up his cell and let it drop on the table,  
“Still here, my ass!” Slapping his hand down on the table, he hissed,  
“Balls!”

0000

“Hey, I didn’t do anything!” Dean snapped heatedly as the police officer’s grip on his upper arm tightened and he was led out the door of the diner,  
“Let go of me, you son of a bitch-“

“You’re causing a commotion and do you honestly expect the workers there to serve you like this?” The cop replied as patiently as he could as he pushed open the door to the diner and let the drunken man outside…the man who, if he didn’t pay any attention to the longer hair and beard, didn’t appear any older then 31,  
“You need help, sir. Go home, take a shower, talk with your family-“

Jerking his arm violently out of the police officer’s grasp, Dean stumbled backwards on the front stop of the diner and hissed,  
“You don’t know anything about me!” He waved his bottle of beer around in the air, not paying attention as it splattered across the front of the cop’s uniform,  
“I got no family, NONE!”

His patience now running thin, the officer folded his arms across his chest and narrowed his eyes at Dean,  
“I am truly sorry for your loss, sir; I am. But I must ask you to leave the property or I’m going to place you under arrest for disturbing the peace.”

“Disturbing the peace…” Dean repeated, turning around and swaggering down the steps,  
“Disturbing the peace, my ass!” Ignoring the cop’s next words, Dean walked back down the steps and stumbled down the road to where he vaguely remembered parking the Impala. His poor car hadn’t been washed or cleaned out in months and he knew that it smelt like nothing but liquor. The floors were covered with only liquor bottles now and large stains covered the seats,  
“Can you believe that son of a bitch, Sammy?”

Shrugging his shoulders, his brother leaned back in the seat and stared at him with narrowed eyes,  
“You’re getting worse, Dean.”

“What’s your point?”

Arching an eyebrow, Sam then smirked at his brother and crossed his arms over his chest,  
“I told you over and over, Dean, how you can get out of this.”

Huffing, Dean rolled his eyes and started the car even as his vision blurred up with unshed tears,  
“Killing myself, Sam?”

With another shrug, Sam smiled in what looked like a sympathetic smile,  
“It’s the way to go, Dean. It has to be.”

“Yeah, right,” Dean growled as he pulled back out onto the road, ignoring the loud honks of other drivers as he nearly ran into them,  
“Like I deserve the easy way out, Sammy…”

“But you would see your brother again.”

His shoulders tensing, Dean shifted in his seat and looked over at the passenger seat and frowned when he saw it was now empty.

No Sam…or Hallucination Sam. He didn’t know anymore, but then again, it didn’t matter. Sam was speaking to him; he was telling him what he thought he should do. But was it right?

Minutes passed for Dean as he drove down the busy street, every now and then, bringing his full bottle up to his lips and taking another long sip,  
“Where are you, Sammy?” He slurred,  
“Talk to me, damnit!” He pulled the Impala to the shoulder of the road and placed it in Park,  
“Goddamn you, Sammy, where the hell are you-“

“I never went anywhere, Dean.” The voice sounded in Dean’s ear again and he whirled around, only this time, seeing his brother in the backseat. The same smile was on his face, only this time, the look he was giving his older brother was more gentle,  
“It was you who left me, you know?”

Blinking his eyes in response, Dean ran the back of his free hand across his forehead and then down his face,  
“Sorry, Sam.”

“Whatever. You need to listen to what I’m saying, though.” In the blink of an eye, the figure of his little brother suddenly disappeared again and Dean’s heart hammered loudly in his chest as he climbed shakily out of the car, but left the driver’s door open.

“Sam?”

“I told you, you need to end it,” Sam’s voice sounded from behind him and Dean felt unexpected tears well up in his hollow green eyes,  
“Do you want to be with your little brother again?”

“Of course I do. You should know that,” Dean mumbled out loud, all the while hearing people whispering to themselves and seeing them pointing at him as they passed,  
“I’d do anything…”

“Even letting it all go? Even if it means you just let yourself go?”

“You mean killing myself,” Dean nodded.

“Bingo!” Sam snapped his fingers,  
“That’s exactly right, brother. It’s the right thing to do; you’ll do so much better when you’re with him, right?” 

“I miss you, Sammy…” Dean didn’t bother to wipe away the tears now falling down his cheeks. His hand shook as he attempted to take another swallow of the liquor, but it soon fell from his hand from the trembling and shattered to the ground,  
“I just miss you…”

“Then do it.” Sam ordered, taking a step back as he grinned,  
“Just do it. It’s for the best. For you and for your brother.”

“It’s for the best,” Dean repeated, his voice growing more quiet as he found himself now nodding his head in agreement.

0000

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

“Do it,” Sam’s voice was getting more impatient by the minute as Dean looked his brother in the eye,  
“You know you want to; quit being a pussy and do it! Take the gun out, put it to your temple and pull the trigger,” A chuckle escaped him and he shook his head with a roll of his eyes,  
“It’s not that difficult. Or are you just scared?”

“I’m not scared, Sam,” Dean snapped back, his hands trembling as he reached into the pocket of jacket and felt the familiar feel of the pistol,  
“I’m not scared…you’re right…” He glared over his shoulder as more and more people walked by him on the sidewalk, whispering to each other as they passed,  
“Got a problem, buddy?” He met the eyes of a man close to his age and hissed as he watched him shake his head,  
“Then get a move on, there’s nothin’ to see here!”

“You know you want to be with your brother, Dean,” Sam’s voice softened a notch as he met Dean’s green eyes with his hazel ones,  
“It’s the only way…”

Dean shook his head, confusion now starting to take a hold of him,  
“Sammy’s in Hell…he’s in the Cage…”

“That’s right.”

“The how in the hell are you telling me this?”

Shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly, Sam folded his arms across his chest,  
“That’s an interesting theory, isn’t it? I guess you’ll find out, won’t you? I thought you always loved a challenge, big brother?”

Narrowing his eyes as his fingers curled around the gun in his pocket, Dean sluggishly shook his head again as he felt himself start to go weak in the knees,  
“I need another drink…”

Sam nodded his head in sympathy as he pointed to the remaining bottle in the Impala,  
“It’s in there, knock yourself out.” A smirk appeared on his face as Dean clumsily climbed back into the Impala.

Dean was breathing heavily and his fingers trembled madly as he attempted to unscrew the cap of the bottle,  
“Goddamnit,” He cursed to himself as the bottle was sealed tightly,  
“Son of a bitch!” The older Winchester’s face turned a beat red and after a few more tries, the cap came off with a quiet pop,  
“There we go…” Taking a long swig and almost drowning the entire bottle in a couple of gulps, Dean leaned back in the dirty seat of the car and glanced back over at his brother who was now sitting beside him.

“You know, you don’t have to use the gun,” Sam lifted his hands up and gestured around the car before pointing to the bottle in Dean’s hand,  
“There’s always the car, the liquor…there’s always an easier way, Dean, you should know that. It’s not like you’ve never considered this before, right?”

“Shut up,” Dean hissed, finishing off the bottle and chucking it in the back seat with the rest of his stash,  
“Just shut up for once! There’s one thing I don’t get…”

“Yes?”

“How in the hell…How in the hell are you here right beside me and yet you’re tellin’ me I’ll be with my brother if I kill myself?” He asked, his voice slurring all over again as he closed his eyes,  
“Got an answer for that one, smart ass?”

Sam tilted his head back and let out a loud laugh, a sharp laugh which held no humor at all,  
“I told you, you idiot! You’ll have to wait and find out. Are you so drunk out of your damn mind that you can’t remember a word I said? Shit, Dean, you’re more of an idiot then I ever thought you were!”

Ignoring the tears that had started up again in his eyes, Dean kept them closed as he took in the words that were being spoken to him,  
“I am an idiot, Sammy…you’re right, you’ve been right all along.” He slammed his hand against the steering wheel over and over again, ignoring the fact that he accidentally slammed his palm into the horn as well and listened to it blare loudly,  
“If I was so smart, Sam, none of this woulda happened…”

“So what are you waiting for?”

Dean was about to answer when he heard pounding on the windshield and he turned and glared at the older man standing beside his car,  
“What?!” He shouted, taking his hand off of the horn.

“You okay in there, pal?” He shouted back as Dean rolled down the window of the car, his glare filled with the utmost resentment,  
“Do you need me to call for help?”

“I don’t need help!” Dean snapped with the same slur,  
“Why do you morons keep thinking I need some type of help?” He glanced at the man and saw that his hand was resting on the hood of the Impala,  
“Now take your hands off of my car before I run you over!” Waiting until the man removed his hand like it was burning him, Dean rolled the window back up and turned the car back on, taking off back down the road to Heaven only knew where.

0000

The hours passed quickly for Dean and before he knew it, he was passing the “Welcome to Kansas” state sign all over again. Ignoring the realization that Bobby was most likely close by, as the old man refused to leave him alone, Dean pressed his foot against the gas and didn’t say anything even as Sam was speaking nonstop beside him.

“It’s the perfect place to end it, Dean,” He spoke, leaning his head back on the passenger seat against his crossed fingers,  
“End it where you messed up. Stull Cemetery. It’s perfect, Dean; that way, you can make up for screwing up your brother’s existence,” He quieted down as he stared at the side of Dean’s head,  
“You know I’m right.”

At the mere mention of Stull Cemetery, and the last time he had been there after he realized he had lost the amulet, tears welled up in Dean’s green eyes and he furiously wiped them away,  
“No.”

“No, you don’t want to do it there, or no, you think I’m wrong?” Sam demanded back, narrowing his eyes.

“No, I’m not doin’ it there, Sam,” The older Winchester mumbled back as he soon felt his eyelids growing heavy with needed sleep. He had been driving for hours on end, his gas tank practically on empty, and never once did he bother to stop to crash on the sidewalk to at least get some sleep. It wasn’t worth it. He didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve that much needed rest,  
“Not there-“

“Coward,” Sam retorted with a heated glare his way,  
“I’ll tell you why you’re not doing it there. Because you’re selfish. You’re selfish. Your baby brother died there and yet you won’t bother to fix it? Selfish bastard!”

“Shut up!” Dean shouted, feeling himself losing control of the steering wheel as he turned and glared right back at his brother,  
“Just shut the hell up!” Before Dean had time to say anything else, the next thing he knew, the Impala had swerved right off the side of the deserted road and into a nearby telephone pole.

0000

“He’s back in Lawrence?” Bobby was shocked, yet relieved, as he rose from the bed, forgetting all about the sleep he was attempting to get,  
“Tell me everything you know, Rufus-“

“I didn’t say he was in Lawrence, Singer,” Rufus interrupted impatiently,  
“I said I think he’d returned to Kansas. Really, that boy could be anywhere for all we know.”

Putting his phone on speaker, Bobby hurried around the motel room and grabbed everything that he had scattered around and placed it all in his one duffel bag,  
“How did you find this out?”

“How do you think, Bobby?” Rufus snickered from the other end of the line just as static entered through the phone,  
“I happened to try calling at just the right time and the son of a bitch had his phone turned on. Honestly, Bobby, I don’t know if Dean is even realizing he’s doing that; has he ever been this out of it and drunk before?”

“Not like this, Rufus,” Bobby sighed with a shake of his head as he switched into a pair of jeans,  
“Where is he now?”

“That’s all I got,” The older hunter replied with a low growl,  
“It appears he just crossed back over the state line before I lost track of him-“

“I’m on it,” Bobby interrupted as he switched his phone off and grabbed his jacket. Within a matter of moments, the gruff hunter was out the door and to his truck,  
“I’m comin’, Dean; you just hang in there for me…”

0000

“Goddamnit,” Dean growled angrily to himself as he stumbled over his own two feet down the road and blinked his eyes wearily. He clutched the one remaining bottle of beer in his hand turned to glare over his shoulder at his brother, who was right on his tail,  
“You do know that crash was your fault, right, Sam?”

“You were the one driving, Dean,” Sam replied with a smirk as he moved to walk side by side with Dean,  
“You didn’t have to listen to me, you know. You never had to listen to me.”

Rolling his green eyes, Dean stared at the night sky and nearly tripped over a large rock and nearly fell into the street. Ignoring the cut that was on his forehead and the blood dripping down his face from the head-on collision into the telephone pole, Dean took a small swig of his beer and ran a hand over his face and down his beard,  
“That’s because you never shut up, that’s why…”

“You didn’t have to leave the Impala sitting there, Dean.”

“I don’t need it,” Dean replied back with a grumble as he stumbled along,  
“Somebody’ll find it; Bobby might find it. It’s just a car.”

“Whatever,” Sam answered back.

Awkward silence filled the night air as the two walked side by side, the only sounds being made was the occasional huff as Dean nearly fell onto his face every couple of minutes and the sounds of birds chirping and flying by above them. No cars were anywhere to be seen; no people, nobody.

Not that Dean gave a rat’s ass about it all. When he had crashed head on into that damn telephone pole, the only thing that was on his mind was that he needed make sure he had grabbed his beer bottle before he continued on foot down the road. Leaving his bags, the guns and weapons behind, that’s exactly what the older Winchester had done and had been doing for the past hour. Not that he cared, though. Who cared what happened now? Who cared if he got mugged and killed? In fact…

“So Stull Cemetery?” Dean mumbled more to himself then to his brother who turned to smile down at him. Fiddling with his jacket to see if his gun or his knife was still there present, the drunken Winchester grinned as he felt the familiar metal of the gun.

“If that’s what you want to do,” Sam replied, his eyes flashing with nothing but hatred.

“And if it is?” Dean demanded, feeling his heart starting to break all over again.

Sam tilted his head to the side and stopped walking, looking his older brother directly in the eye as he spoke,  
“Then you’re being smart for once in your life, aren’t you?”

Pushing back anymore tears that were threatening to appear in his eyes, Dean felt himself start to sway on his feet as he asked sluggishly,  
“How do you know it’s what I want?”

Sam stepped closer to him as Dean took more steps back and he looked over the older brother’s shoulder before looking back at him,  
“Because everything I’ve been telling you, you already know you want, Dean. You do. I’m just forcing you to remember it, that’s all. You just need an extra push, that’s what you need.”

“What I need…”

Sam nodded his head in silence, his hazel eyes no longer holding the hatred it did just moments earlier. Now they held pity and impatience. Impatience for his decision. As if his little brother was reading his mind-and what if he was-Sam took another step forward until he was right in Dean’s face,  
“So what’ll it be, big brother?”

Turning his hollow green eyes which were struggling desperately stay open for just a little while longer away from Sam, Dean turned back onto the sidewalk and continued walking. He was silent for a few minutes, not paying attention to the fact that he was wondering slowly into the middle of the road. The older brother’s brain was concentrating on one thing and one thing only; it didn’t matter to him where he walked, it wasn’t as if there were anybody around to lecture him and give him a hard time.

However, just as Dean was finishing struggling up the hill, and before he could turn back around and give an answer to his little brother’s demand, an unmistakable sound of a vehicle was heard from up above him as well as a couple flashes of light. Squinting, Dean swerved once again, but didn’t move out of the way. His vision blurred and the light came closer and closer and before the older Winchester knew what had happened, he felt a hard impact as the truck ran straight into him, sending him flying through the air. Before he landed on the hard unforgiving ground, Dean’s mind could only think of one thing and one thing only.

Only one name was on his lips as he felt himself crashing to the ground, his beer bottle spilling out over the road,  
“Sammy…” Pain and agony, both physical and emotional, shot through him and he heard nothing as he slipped into darkness.

0000

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

“Goddamnit, boy, what am I gonna do with you?” Bobby grumbled to himself, forcing himself to not release all the pent up emotions that where whirling inside of him. He took his cap off of his head and ran a hand over what was left of his hair,  
“You will be the death of me, I’m tellin’ ya.”

“He’s going to be alright, Mr. Singer,” A female voice sounded from the doorway to the hospital room, but the gruff hunter didn’t turn around as she continued,  
“He’s lucky he just broke his leg and not his neck, especially considering the fact he was hit head on by that truck.”

“Yeah, real lucky,” Bobby mumbled, finally looking up as the young nurse stepped closer to Dean’s bed,  
“That’s his life for ya. Real lucky.” He placed his cap back on his head and ran a hand down his face and through his beard,  
“With his little brother gone and no other family left besides myself…I guess I’m not too surprised anymore that he would do this to himself.”

“You’re his uncle?”

“Yeah,” Bobby looked down at the unconscious form of his boy and took in the bruises and cuts on his face. He remembered hours earlier when he had been informed by Dean’s doctor that his boy hadn’t received that nasty cut on his head from getting hit, but from his head hitting a windshield. The older, gruff hunter silently cursed to himself, remembering when he had passed the state line back into Kansas and had found the trashed Impala on the side of the road, the front end of the car making out with a telephone pole. All he had wanted to do was smack Dean upside the head, knock some sense into him; but if the older Winchester had just left the Impala there like a piece of trash, God only knew how messed up his friend really was. Bobby was relieved, however, that he had gotten to the car in time before anyone else did. He knew once Dean got his head out of his ass and got Sam back, he would want to fix up that car, no question about it. But his heart still hurt at that pitiful sight before him,  
“Both he and his brother have been like my sons since they were in diapers.”

“Where is his brother?” The nurse started to press, her heart filling with sympathy for her young patient,  
“We could give him a call, I’m sure he’d want to be here-“

“He’d dead, lady,” Bobby suddenly snapped, turning his head and glaring daggers at the woman,  
“So just drop it, okay?” 

“I’m sorry-“

“You can go now,” Bobby turned back to his boy and leaned his head in his hand. Ignoring the sound of the door shutting behind him and the repeated mumble of an apology, the older hunter took in the wrist restraints on Dean, his heart breaking all over again,  
“Please don’t tell me you were really trying to kill yourself, Dean…” A part of him wanted more then anything to just take the restraints off; but another small part told the older man that Dean would do anything to get rid of that intense agony of losing Sam and Bobby couldn’t ignore that feeling,  
“Why wouldn’t you at least talk with me about it? I love that kid just like you do, and I know he’s your little brother and all, but I miss him, too…” He normally didn’t let himself release these kinds of feelings around anyone, including Sam and Dean, but considering the fact the older Winchester was unconscious, he had nothing to lose,  
“So help me God if you think I’m going to let you out of my sight once you’re released, boy. You’re comin’ back to my place and you’re staying there until I say you’re okay to go.”

Bobby leaned back in the hard-ass chair that he had been planted in for the last couple of hours ever since Dean had been admitted into this hospital. God, he hated hospitals and he knew Dean hated them more then he did and would be throwing a temper tantrum as soon as he woke up. But Bobby could deal with it; he’d dealt with his boys during their worst and he could deal with Dean now…at least he would try his damndest. He wasn’t going to allow himself to admit it to Dean, but Bobby was scared to death for what was to come in the next couple of months; Dean’s physical injuries would heal, he knew that. A few broken ribs and a broken leg as well as a cut on his forehead…they dealt with those types of things on a routine basis. But the drunken, suicidal state he was in…this was new. This wasn’t something he was used to. When Bobby had hooked the Impala up to his tow-truck, he had taken a good look at the inside of the car and his heart had leaped into his chest.

Despite the fact that the car was trashed on the outside from its run-in with the telephone pole, the inside was just as bad. Liquor bottles were scattered everywhere, front seat and back. Food stains where visible all over the seats, stains that Dean didn’t even bother to try and clean. And all of the food wrappers which where littered all over the floor; it was like Dean had taken to living in his car for the past couple of months and he didn’t care anymore about how the Impala looked. That alone told Bobby that Dean was not the same guy who had left his house in Sioux Falls all those months ago.

This was a Dean Winchester who didn’t care about himself, his state of health, his car…nothing. This was a Dean Winchester who only cared about seeing Sam again and nothing anybody or say could change that.

0000

“I told you, I’m fine; I don’t need to be here,” Dean snapped at the doctor checking him over and glared to his left over at Bobby Singer, who was standing in the doorway, arms crossed and the usual stubborn look on his face,  
“Bobby, tell them-“

“I ain’t tellin’ them anything, you idjit,” Bobby interrupted, not at all fazed by Dean’s attitude. He wasn’t surprised in the least when his friend had woken up about an hour ago and the only thing on his mind was getting another drink; it was like all the pain the world didn’t bother him, because no physical pain could touch the pain hidden deep in his heart,  
“Let them do their job-“

“Undo these fuckin’ restraints and then I’ll let them do their job!” Dean shouted, jostling his casted right leg,  
“Don’t touch me-“

“Son, if you don’t settle down, we’re going to have to move you to a different ward,” The doctor beside him warned, his voice going from patient and kind to firm and impatient. He could only take so much; he had seen and taken care of all sorts of patients over the years, but nothing came close to this young man in front of him. He was surprised he was even still standing with the way Dean was going off,  
“Now settle down.”

“Don’t tell me what to do, you son of a bitch-“

“Doc, I’d like to speak with him for a moment,” Bobby interrupted, taking a step closer and getting in between the gray haired doctor and the nurse who was taking notes in Dean’s chart,  
“I could settle him down; just don’t move him into…there.” He knew exactly where Dean was being threatened to be taken: The Psych Ward. There was no way in hell he was going to allow that to happen, not if he had anything to do with it. If that happened, it would be nearly impossible to sneak Dean out of here,  
“Just let me give it a try.”

“I’m not gonna talk with you, Bobby-“

“Shut it, you damn idjit,” Bobby interrupted, his eyes never leaving the doctor as he reluctantly nodded his head and motioned for the nurse to follow him out the door. Once the door had shut behind them, the gruff hunter shook his head and looked back down at Dean,  
“The hell are you trying to do to yourself, boy? You need help-“

“I don’t need anybody’s help,” He spoke loudly before turning to his right and glaring at the empty space beside him,  
“Shut up, Sam; I won’t tell you again.”

“Sam?” Bobby’s heart leapt into his chest as he looked beside Dean,  
“Dean, Sam’s not there-“

“Sure he is, he’s been with me the entire time, Bobby,” Dean interrupted, still attempting to pull his wrists free from the restraints around them,  
“No, Sammy, he can’t see you.” 

“Uh, Dean…I think you’re hallucinating…” Bobby was cautious as he spoke, knowing this was such a sensitive topic, bringing up any topic that had to do with Sam,  
“He’s not there, Dean, and I think deep down you know that.”

Silence filled the hospital room as Dean turned and narrowed his eyes dangerously at his surrogate father,  
“Shut up.”

Ignoring the words coming from his boy’s mouth, Bobby rested his hands on the bed rails and looked directly into Dean’s hollow, empty green eyes,  
“Listen to me for a second, Dean. Did this version of your brother…did he tell you to walk out in front of a truck and try and kill yourself?”

Huffing and rolling his eyes to the ceiling, Dean clenched his hands into fists. If his hands were free from those damn restraints, he would’ve long punched Bobby square in the jaw by now and break a few bones while he was at it,  
“Mind your own damn business, Singer-“

“Don’t speak to me that way, you damn idjit,” Bobby forced his voice to not tremble as his eyes never left Dean’s,  
“I’m going to help you; you’re not gonna be out of my sight at all for these next couple of months. It’s either that, or I allow them to put you in that Psych Ward.” Knowing that he was lying through his teeth, he would never allow those doctors to get close enough to his boy for them to do that; but he had to scare him some way. Because right now…Dean didn’t care about anything around him and wasn’t scared about anything. He was talking to thin air, thinking he was having conversations with Sam, while this entire time he thought Sam was telling him to kill himself,  
“Tell me something, Dean,” Letting out a heavy sigh, Bobby lowered himself into the damn chair again,  
“Do you think Sam is telling you to kill yourself?” When he was greeted with silence, Bobby knew the answer immediately,  
“You know that’s not your brother-“

“Sure it is,” Dean tilted his head back and let out a hard laugh, one filled with absolutely no humor,  
“Who else would it be, Bobby? I failed him, he hates me and that’s all there is to it-“

“That’s bullshit, Dean, and you know it,” Bobby growled,  
“You know full well that Sam-YOUR Sam-thinks the world of you; he loves with everything in him. That’s why…” He sucked in a sharp breath, mentally preparing himself for Dean’s reaction at his next words,  
“That’s why he jumped into Lucifer’s Cage to begin with, Dean. He did it to save YOU. Now if that isn’t love, I don’t know what is-“

“Shut up,” Dean hissed, his eyes showing nothing but pure hatred now,  
“Just SHUT. UP.”

“I won’t,” The older hunter replied, reaching into his pocket and fingering the amulet lying there,  
“And no matter how hard you try, Dean, you can’t make me give up on you.” Pulling the familiar necklace out, he held it in his hand and allowed his friend to see it lying there,  
“I found this, by the way.” Briefly seeing a look on Dean’s face that wasn’t hatred, Bobby took that as a sign and carefully reached over to place it back around his friend’s neck, tucking it underneath the hospital gown so that the doctor’s didn’t notice,  
“I found it at the bar.”

Blinking back any tears that threatened to fall at the familiar weight being placed back around his neck, Dean’s heart thumped loudly in his chest and he opened his mouth to tell Bobby off once again but instead pulled at the wrist restraints. Suddenly feeling Bobby’s fingers start to undo one of the straps, the older Winchester jerked his hand free and reached underneath his hospital gown to grasp the amulet, pulling it up and out. Letting it fall back in his hand, Dean fingered it carefully as he allowed memory after memory to wash over him all over again.

Bobby held his breath as Dean fingered the necklace in his hand and he was just about to start getting his hopes up when the younger boy’s eyes hardened once again,  
“Doesn’t change anything, Bobby.” He replaced the amulet back underneath the hospital gown and stared at the bed sheets,  
“Changes nothing…”

0000

“You oughta at least be grateful I got you out of that hell hole, Dean,” Bobby grumbled the following day as he drove his truck down the highway and back to Singer Salvage, the Impala trailing behind them, hooked up to the back,  
“You could’ve wound up in that Psych Ward.”

Dean was silent in the passenger seat as his empty eyes stared straight ahead of him, not speaking a word. The only time the younger man uttered a sound over the past couple of hours was when he demanded Bobby buy him some liquor, which he had refused. It had taken a punch in the jaw-actually a couple of punches-before Bobby had given in and had bought one bottle of beer for the road. Dean had been living on nothing but alcohol for months now; he was clearly addicted to the stuff and right now, there was no way he was going to stop drinking it, despite what Bobby said.

Tilting his head to the side, Bobby watched as Dean’s eyebrows raised as he looked to the empty space in between them,  
“What’s he saying to you, boy?”

Snorting loudly, Dean tilted his head back and emptied the rest of the beer in his mouth,  
“Nothin’.”

“Nothin’ my ASS,” Bobby snapped back, pulling the truck over with a screech,  
“What’s that hallucination of your brother saying to you?”

“That you drive like a girl,” Dean laughed, accidentally bumping his broken leg against the door, but didn’t flinch in the least. He felt absolutely nothing when it came to any type of physical pain, whether it be his leg, his ribs or even his head. Nothing mattered to him,  
“Seriously, Bobby!”

Glaring heatedly at his younger friend and forcing back another retort, Bobby lowered his voice and pressed on,  
“Tell me what he’s saying to you, Dean.”

“Nothin’ that matters to you,” Dean snorted again,  
“He’s right either way-“

“Dean, that son of a bitch that’s pretending to be your little brother is not right,” Bobby interrupted, wishing more then anything that this hallucination of Sam was at least some type of demon; that way he could kill the damn thing and get it out of Dean’s line of vision. But unfortunately, that wasn’t the case here. This was no spirit and this was no demon using Sam’s physical body; this was all in Dean’s head. Everything that “Sam” was saying to Dean right now was everything that Dean believed about himself; it was now manifesting itself in a form of his brother, literally confirming every little thing that he had always felt in regards to himself. The fact that it was coming in the shape of his brother…that scared Bobby more then the Apocalypse ever did. What would happen if or when they ever rescued the real Sam from Hell? Would Dean believe anything his real baby brother said to him or think him to be lying to him?

No matter what, Bobby knew there was only one solution to this problem, other then getting Dean help,  
“Dean…”

“What now?” Dean demanded, tossing the empty beer bottle to the floor of the truck and crossing his arms.

“We’re gonna get your brother back, Dean,” Bobby kept his eyes on Dean’s body movements and he watched as his shoulders tensed up as he slowly turned to face him,  
“We’re gonna get our boy outta Hell and I’m going to need your help.”

“What?” Confusion filled Dean’s face…confusion with a mixture of so many other emotions, Bobby couldn’t keep track.

“You heard me, boy,” The gruff older hunter nodded his head in confirmation,  
“I’m going to get you better if it’s the last thing I do-“

“Good luck with that.”

Ignoring the snort that Dean let out, Bobby took off his cap and set it in his lap as he looked down at his hands briefly before meeting Dean’s gaze, which was empty once again,  
“Don’t underestimate me, boy. We’re going to get that kid out of Lucifer’s Cage, we’re going to save him, but you need to let me help you first.”

“Why?”

“Why?” Bobby repeated, narrowing his eyes dangerously,  
“Why? Because Sam is not gonna be okay once we rescue him and he’s going to need his big brother, just like you’re going to need him.” Allowing his voice to harden, despite the fact that all he wanted to do was cry for his boys, Bobby continued,  
“So get your head out of your ass, quit being a dick to me and let me help you for once in your life.” Not receiving any type of response, Bobby put the truck back into Drive and pulled back onto the road, but not before he shot a sideways glance at his friend.

Despite the stony look on the older brother’s face, Bobby could clearly make out the tears that had started rolling down his cut-up cheeks.

0000

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

“You’re putting a tracker on me? Really, Bobby?” Dean scowled in annoyance as he looked down at the metal tracker clamped on his wrist and shook it,  
“Son of a bitch…”

“You’ll thank me for it later when your head’s clear,” Bobby replied as he took a seat across from Dean, who was laid up on his couch, his broken leg elevated on a pillow,  
“And don’t even try to take it off; you won’t be able to, boy-“

“Son of a bitch,” Dean repeated with a growl as he glared over at Bobby,  
“You think I’ll kill myself-“

“That’s exactly what I think, Dean,” The older hunter interrupted with a scowl of his own,  
“Don’t try to deny it, I know you, you idjit; you don’t care about yourself, about what happens to you or even how you look,” He stopped as he gestured in front of him with a raised eyebrow,  
“That beard, that hair…you wouldn’t be looking like that if you were in the right frame of mind and if you were sober.”

“Whatever,” Dean mumbled to himself as he took another swig from the beer bottle he had stolen from Bobby’s fridge,  
“So when will you be taking this damn thing off?”

“When I say so,” Bobby replied as he rose to his feet and made his way over to his desk,  
“When I see that you’re not going to try and take your life again. When I see that you’ve healed enough and are sober enough; because when we get Sam back, he’s going to need his brother, Dean, not someone who doesn’t even resemble the boy I saw 8 months ago.”

At the mere mention of Sammy’s name, Dean’s face turned bright red as he slammed the now empty beer bottle onto the end table,  
“Just help me get my brother back, Bobby; that’s all I care about.”

“And you know full well that boy will chew me out if he sees you like this,” The gruff hunter snapped back, taking a seat in his chair and pulling over a large stack of books,  
“And don’t even think he won’t chew you out if see you right now…”

Green eyes flashing with nothing but anger, Dean lowered his head and fumbled with the metal clamped tightly around his wrist,  
“You never give up, do you, Singer?”

“Nope,” Bobby answered, not paying attention to the tone in Dean’s voice,  
“So don’t expect me to, boy. I’m more stubborn then you.”

0000

“I can do this on my own, Bobby, I don’t need you to watch my every move,” Dean maneuvered the crutches out from under his arms and dumped them on the floor of the bathroom as he stared at his reflection in the mirror.

Bobby snorted as he pulled the razor out of Dean’s hand and placed it back in the cabinet,  
“With the way you’re dealing, boy, I don’t trust you with a razor,” He ignored Dean’s murderous glare as he pulled out a pair of scissors instead,  
“And I’m going to watch you do it because look at yourself, Dean,” Bobby gestured to the older Winchester’s shaking hands and hollow, dead eyes,  
“Even if you weren’t planning on taking a razor to yourself, you could very easily hurt yourself even more with those shaking hands of yours.” He placed his hands on Dean’s shoulders and gently pushed him down onto the closed toilet,  
“Now get off that leg before I shave that beard FOR you.”

“No way in Hell,” Dean growled, feeling his face flushing red at the mere mention of Bobby doing it for him,  
“I’m not lettin’ you anywhere near me with those-“

“Then you’re going to have to suck it up and do it,” Bobby placed the scissors in Dean’s trembling hand and handed him a mirror,  
“It’s my house and my rules, so you will obey them, boy.”

“I hate you.”

“You said that before, Dean,” His friend’s words didn’t hit him as hard as they did all those months ago when Dean had murmured them. Bobby didn’t know why it didn’t, especially considering the fact that Dean was much worse off then he was back then,  
“You can say anything you want to me, but I know you don’t mean it. You’ll apologize later on when the real Dean is back among the living.” He smirked at his boy and folded his arms across his chest, leaning against the door jam of the bathroom,  
“Now get a move on or I’m gonna threaten to cut that hair of yours too.”

Not receiving a reply from Dean except for low growls under his breath, Bobby watched and for the next hour and a half, after countless times he had to step in and help, the older gruff hunter knew this was the best they were going to get. Rough stubble was still present on Dean’s face, but the full on beard and mustache were gone. He was far from being clean shaven, but at least this time, Dean actually had a look about him that started to resemble what he looked like almost a year ago.

“Happy now?” Dean shakily set the scissors down on the sink.

“Very,” Bobby smiled back as he reached down and grabbed Dean’s crutches off the floor,  
“Now if only I could get you to cut that hair-“

“Just give me the damn beer, Bobby,” Dean hissed, snatching the crutches from Bobby’s hands and placed them back under his arms,  
“Where is it?”

Sighing, Bobby pulled the bottle out from his pocket and stared at it. This was not what he wanted to do; in fact, it made himself ill at just the thought of giving Dean more alcohol to consume. But he also knew that with the way Dean had descended downhill so fast and how he had come to rely on the bottle for so damn long, going cold turkey in quitting was out of the question,  
“Right here,” He sighed again as Dean snatched it from his hand and hobbled out of the bathroom and back to the library, Bobby on his heels,  
“There’s nothing I can do to make you fully quit that stuff, is there, Dean?”

Glaring angrily over his shoulder, Dean sat back down on the couch but didn’t lay down,  
“Don’t be an idiot.”

Bobby rolled his eyes to the ceiling and went back to his desk,  
“Dean-“

“Don’t, Bobby,” Dean interrupted, the glare and hatred still present in his eyes,  
“If this is the part where you’re gonna attempt a caring and sharing conversation, go and screw yourself.”

Bobby shot a glare back over his friend as he folded his hands on the table,  
“I’m only trying to help you, boy-“

“And how many times do I have to tell you, I don’t want your help,” The younger boy snapped.

“Not even for your brother, who’s rotting in Lucifer’s Cage?” Bobby knew he was treading on thin ice with this topic, but he knew that Sam was and always would be Den’s weak spot. Not even alcohol could change that.

“Shut up,” Dean demanded, swinging his broken leg onto the couch and popping the beer bottle open,  
“Just shut up about Sammy-“

“If we’re gonna get your brother out of Hell, we’ve gotta do it together, Dean. You hear me? Together, as in you and I. And that means you’ve got to get your head out of your ass and listen to me.”

“If you’re implying that I don’t care about SAM, then you can go to hell,” Dean mumbled under his breath, not caring that Bobby could hear every word he had just said,  
“Just get my brother out of there-“

“Okay, Dean, that’s it,” Bobby moved out from behind the desk and dragged the chair over to the couch, taking a seat directly in front of his friend,  
“Why are you doing this to yourself?”

“Because.”

“Because?” Bobby repeated with an arched eyebrow,  
“Because why?”

Instead of answering, Bobby watched as Dean’s empty eyes moved over his shoulder and focused on something Bobby couldn’t see,  
“I told you he can’t see you, Sam, so shut the hell up.”

“You’re still seeing your brother, aren’t you?” Bobby whispered, looking over his shoulder and once again, only seeing nothing but thin air,  
“Can you tell me what he’s saying to you?”

“He says you’re acting like a fool, Bobby,” Dean replied with a heartless laugh,  
“And I agree with him.” He drank the rest of the beer and rested the empty bottle in his lap,  
“He also says that you’re stupid if you think you can keep me locked up in here-“

“That’s not your brother telling you those things, Dean,” Bobby’s heart was breaking all over again as he watched his boy’s eyes dart back and forth between himself and this hallucination of his brother,  
“It’s your own mind playing games on you. It’s your own self-hatred manifesting itself in the form of your brother, why can’t you see that?”

“Maybe cause I don’t care, have you ever thought of that?” Dean stared back at him with an empty expression before handing the older hunter the empty beer bottle,  
“Gimme another one.”

“On one condition.”

“Give me another one,” Dean growled, his eyes flashing,  
“Or so help me God-“

“I will, Dean,” Bobby took the empty bottle, but never rose to his feet,  
“Just hear me out.”

“What?”

“Just attempt to try and let me help you,” Bobby’s voice softened a notch as he looked Dean straight in the eye,  
“Please.”

The older Winchester brother rolled his eyes to the ceiling,  
“Ain’t gonna work, Bobby.”

“The only way it won’t work is if you continue acting this way, if you continue to act like you couldn’t care less,” Bobby pleaded,  
“There’s got to be something in your life, besides Sam, that you still care about-“

“Nope.”

“Not even the Impala?”

Snorting, Dean laughed another humorless laugh that sent chills up Bobby’s spine,  
“The Impala? It’s just a car, Singer. Or better yet, it was my new home when I wasn’t living on the streets. I told you about that, didn’t I? How I lived on the streets and begged for money?” He laughed again,  
“It was the damndest thing, Bobby. It was then that I realized that my whole life was a joke, babying that car was a joke, I was a joke and that I did nothing but fail Sam. He told me that, you know?”

“You mean, the hallucination told you that.”

“Hallucination, reality, who cares,” Dean shook his head,  
“Sam was still telling me that it was true-“

“It’s not true, Dean,” Bobby was growing more desperate, more scared, by the minute. He had never seen Dean this way before and it was scaring the living shit out of him,  
“What would you do if your real brother showed up right now and saw you this way?”

Dean fell silent for a brief moment as his eyebrows arched up to his brow and for a moment, Bobby could have sworn he saw something that resembled fear on his face. Fear and a grief hidden so deep within him,  
“He’d hate me, too, and be incredibly disappointed…”

“No, I don’t think so,” Bobby shook his head, refusing to let those thoughts continue to torment his boy,  
“He would understand and he would do what Sam always does. He would pour all of his love onto you, that’s what he would do.”

“No…”

“Yes,” The older hunter insisted with a nod of his head,  
“And I will prove it to you, boy. Just let me help you…” He waited for Dean’s reply and was saddened even more as he got no reply, no agreement. Bobby was about to let out a sigh and give Dean more time to think when he heard him speak up, his voice barely audible to the human ear.

“Just get my brother out.”

0000

6 months later…

“You are not going to sacrifice yourself again, I forbid it!” Bobby roared, slamming his fist down on his desk and glaring across at Dean who was standing with his arms folded and glaring back at him, too,  
“You are not going to sell your soul over to a Crossroads demon again, I forbid it! You are not going to put your brother through that hell again-“

“Then what else is there to do, Bobby?” Dean slurred slightly as he took another long swig of the liquor bottle in his hand,  
“We’ve been at it for months now and there’s been absolutely nothing. Nothing! Unless we either release Lucifer and Michael again, that is…”

Bobby sighed in exhaustion as he slumped down in his desk chair and ran a hand over his face,  
“Look, Dean, I know you couldn’t care less about what happens to you, but hear me out. I’m concerned not just about you right now, but about Sam. What that would do the poor kid if he came back from Hell and found you had sold your soul once again. What if you got less then a year to live this time around?”

“Then we’d deal with it-“

“Absolutely NOT!” Bobby slammed his fist onto a large thick book and watched as a glass of water on his desk nearly tumbled to the floor,  
“That ain’t gonna happen, you damn idjit!”

“Then some sort of deal, anything!” Dean shouted back, throwing his empty beer bottle across the room and watching it shatter against Bobby’s wall.

Growing silent for a moment as he watched the glass shatter, Bobby narrowed his eyes and turned slowly back to Dean,  
“You’re cleaning that mess up when we’re through with this conversation.”

“Whatever,” Dean replied with a wave of his hand,  
“There has to be some sort of deal we could make that doesn’t require a selling of our soul, Bobby. Anything! I don’t care what it is, who it is…I could sacrifice Lisa and Ben for all I care-“

Before Dean could continue on his rant, he felt himself grabbed by the collar of his shirt and was staring into Bobby’s face, which was bright red with anger,  
“If I hear you so much as say something like that again, Dean Winchester, I will kick your ass so far across the country, not even myself and Rufus will be able to find you.” 

Glaring down at the older man, Dean pressed his hands against Bobby’s shoulders and shoved him back,  
“Get off of me.”

“Was your hallucination brother telling you to do that, huh?” Bobby demanded,   
“Or was that yourself and yourself alone?”

“Does it matter?” Dean shrugged his shoulders,  
“It’s not like I give a rat’s ass about Lisa and Ben, Bobby-“

“They took you in and gave you a home, for God’s sake, boy!” Bobby snapped heatedly,  
“That was Sam’s final wish for you, Dean, so don’t you dare make light of that and threaten to sacrifice that woman and her son; don’t you dare.”

“Shut up, Sam, I’ve got his!” Dean interrupted as he looked to his left and glared impatiently,  
“I know what I’ve gotta do-“

“Dean, over here,” Bobby snapped his fingers in front of Dean’s face and waited until he had looked his way,  
“I’m right here, kid.”

It had been an incredibly long and hard past couple of months since Bobby had found his friend and had taken him in once again. At first glance it would appear that Dean had made lots of drastic improvements the past 6 months, but Bobby knew better; he knew this boy more then Dean himself ever admitted. Sure, Dean’s physical appearance was a tad better, despite the length of his hair which was slowly almost down to his shoulders; but the beard was gone and although Bobby had to force his friend to shave with threats that he would do it himself if he had to, there was still lots of stubble on his chin and upper lip which made Dean appear older then he really was. Even though his leg had long ago healed, as well as the few broken ribs, Dean still walked with a slight limp and even if he was in pain, his friend never once made a big deal about it. 

After all, Dean didn’t care.

He didn’t care about the Impala, which, despite getting cleaned out of liquor bottles and trash, still lay parked in Bobby’s salvage yard, waiting to be repaired. And Bobby knew once Dean was in the right state of mind, he would want to repair that car himself. It was his baby, even though the way he had treated the vehicle was not something the older Winchester would have done if he wasn’t unstable.

Really, the only thing Dean cared about now was setting his baby brother free from Lucifer’s Cage and Bobby could live with that for the time being. That didn’t stop him from trying to continue to help Dean; he only kept certain amounts of liquor bottles in his fridge at a time and if he noticed Dean was drinking too much, he would throw the rest in the garbage, despite his friend’s protests. Sadly, the metal tracker was still attached to Dean’s wrist, much to the younger boy’s chagrin; but Bobby still was not about to let Dean out of his set, not yet…Hell, he didn’t even know if he would let him out of his sight even after Sam came back, because who knew what kind of condition the youngest Winchester would be in? He didn’t know if Dean would even be stable enough at that time to protect and take care of his brother the way he should be.

“We’ll figure it out, Dean,” Bobby now said with a heavy, exhausted sigh,  
“But no human sacrifices, got it?”

Starting to pace across the carpet again, Dean ran a hand through his hair and was silent for a few tense moments before turning back to Bobby,  
“So no sacrifices at the Crossroads…what about calling upon one of those angel bitches? Maybe make some sort of deal? Or Death for that matter? I could make some sort of deal with them in exchange for getting Sammy out-“

“I said no soul selling, Dean-“

“Not my soul, Bobby! Chill!” Dean snapped with another roll of his green eyes,  
“There has to be something in one of those books about making a deal with an angel, right?”

“Don’t know, never tried it before,” Bobby flipped through one of the heavier books that was resting on the corner of his desk,  
“Those sons of bitches can be meaner then demons at times…”

“Death could even get Sam out?”

“Doubt that, Dean,” Bobby shook his head as he continued scanning the pages,  
“In case you forgot, Sam is in Lucifer’s Cage, not Hell Hell. I don’t even know if Death would be able to pull something like that off-“

“Then we need to call upon one of those angels and I’m not talking Castiel here,” Dean growled, sinking down now onto the couch,  
“We need some big-time Archangel to help us.” He turned his eyes and watched as Bobby continued to scan the pages of his book,  
“Just keep looking, I don’t care what I have to give up as long as Sammy gets out.”

0000

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

“You do realize I could’ve driven here myself, don’t you, Bobby?”

Bobby shot a hard look Dean’s way as he continued driving down the highway and then rolled his eyes,  
“Driven here, my ass!” He shot back with a roll of his eyes,  
“You would’ve gotten yourself killed, boy,” The older hunter broke in just as Dean was about to object and held up a hand,  
“And don’t say that you don’t care, because I happen to care and if we’re going to get your brother, I know for a fact Sam would want you alive and not dead somewhere in a morgue! So shut your hole for one minute and just be grateful I happen to care about you boys more then my own life.”

Dean scowled for a brief moment before glancing down at his lap, his hands shaking madly even as they clutched the open bottle of beer,  
“Just stay in the car when we get there, alright, Bobby?” He demanded, not looking at his friend,  
“Sammy’s gonna need me-“

“Dean, Sam’s gonna need you with your head on straight,” Bobby interrupted with a shake of his own head,  
“And these past months, you haven’t been doing anything to get your head on straight. As far as I’m concerned, your brother will need the both of us-“

“I didn’t make that deal for the hell of it, Bobby!” Dean snapped, glaring to his left and holding the look for a few moments,  
“It’s not like I sold my soul or anything to that Archangel…” His gaze softened somewhat as he thought over the last couple of months,  
“And to tell you the God’s honest truth, Bobby, you’re just wasting your time trying to help me. You should’ve known from the start that I was a lost cause. My little brother is the only one who can help me…if helping me is even possible.”

“Damnit, boy,” Bobby mumbled under his breath, feeling his heart break all over again,  
“You and Sam are practically family to me and I know I’m going all chick-flick moment on you, but I love you boys like you were my own. I know I’m not Sam, but I still care about you just as much as he did-“

“You’re right, you’re not Sammy,” Dean interrupted, his green eyes following the road as Bobby’s truck passed the “Lawrence-10 Miles” sign,  
“I just need Sammy, Bobby, is that too much to ask?”

Ignoring the question that pierced his heart, the older hunter glanced over at his boy and asked instead,  
“You’re never going to get better after that deal you made with that angel, Dean…you know that, right?”

Shrugging his shoulders, Dean took a hearty chug out of the bottle and leaned his head back, forcing himself to not let the tears fall from his eyes,  
“It’s worth it, Bobby-“

“Making a deal with an angel and agreeing to be an alcoholic for the rest of your life is worth it?” Bobby huffed, his fingers tightening around the steering wheel,  
“You do realize that if you stop drinking, you’ll die, right?” At Dean’s nod, Bobby hissed under his breath,  
“Dean-“

“It’s either that or leave Sam in Hell! I’d rather go with drinking myself into oblivion.”

“You’ve already drunk yourself into oblivion, idjit.”

“So?”

“So…I can’t help wondering, what will Sam feel when he finds out about this?” Bobby’s heart hurt as he thought of his youngest boy. How in the world would Sam feel when he escaped from Lucifer’s Cage and found his older brother like this? When he found out that Dean didn’t keep his promise and instead, nearly got himself killed? 

“He’s my baby brother, Bobby, we’ll help each other,” Dean replied so quietly, his voice was barely audible.

“Why wouldn’t you have let me convince that damn angel to make some other sort of deal, boy?” Bobby let out a heavy sigh as he glanced at the time. They still had a full hour…a full hour to get to Stull Cemetery. That would be when Sam would be rescued and not a minute sooner or a minute later; they had to be on time,  
“Allowing yourself to have this addiction forever…what the hell, Dean…?”

“I told you, Bobby,” Dean growled without looking Bobby’s way,  
“It was the only option he would give me. And I’m an alcoholic anyways, so…”

“Are you still seeing that hallucination of your brother?” Bobby knew he was treading on thin ice with that question; he knew he would probably get his head bitten off, but he had to ask it. Dean couldn’t be seeing a false image of his brother when his real brother was going to be escaping from Hell,  
“Please tell me he’s still not talking with you-“

“Of course he’s still talking to me,” Dean sighed heavily as he closed his eyes,  
“Not as much, though…”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean, ever since I made that deal with that son of a bitch angel, I’ve been ignoring him,” The older brother replied,  
“He’s sitting right in between us, you know?”

“What’s he saying to you?” Bobby asked, holding his breath as he tapped his fingers nervously on the steering wheel of his truck.

“Nothing that’s of great importance to you,” Dean hissed, turning his head to look out the window, watching the familiar scenery pass by,  
“Doesn’t matter though…”

“Of course it matters,” Bobby urged softly, lifting a hand and removing his cap,  
“You’ll need to know you’re seeing your REAL brother when we get to Stull, you know that right?”

“I’m fully aware who my baby brother is, Bobby; I don’t need any help,” Dean snapped back, taking another shaky sip out of the bottle.

“Sure,” Bobby sighed again and shot another quick glance Dean’s way before falling silent again,  
“Sure, Dean…”

Silence filled the truck as Bobby thought back to earlier that week when he and Dean had finally agreed on summoning an Archangel in order to make some sort of deal to get Sam out of the Cage. It had taken a lot of arguing on both of their parts, with Bobby trying to convince Dean to not sell his soul to a Crossroads demon. The older hunter didn’t know what had finally convinced Dean to not do it that way; he really didn’t care at the time, all he cared about was going about this some other way and try summoning an angel instead. After all, those angels were as big of dicks as the demons were.

He had never expected the tall Archangel, that looked as scary as Death himself had looked, to actually agree on helping them get Sam out of the Cage; but of course, it had come with such a heavy price. Thankfully, it wasn’t either of their souls; instead, he had wanted something more personal from Dean.

The Archangel had agreed to the task if only Dean would continue drinking, even after Sam was out. If he so much as attempted to stop, he would die. No questions asked. If he didn’t drink at least once a day, the deal would be off. Dean would die and even worse, Sam would return to Hell.

“Yeah, this is better then the Crossroads deal, Dean…” Bobby grumbled to himself, his heart heavy with grief as he stared out the window,  
“The consequences are exactly the same…” Letting out a heavy sigh, the older hunter settled back in the seat of his truck and continued driving, his destination getting closer and closer.

Glancing at the time on the radio and saw it was just a quarter past 11 at night, Bobby stepped on the gas and continued driving, fully aware they were going over the speed limit. Midnight that following morning was the time they had to appear at Stull Cemetery and there was no way on this earth Bobby was going to be late.

0000

“Did we make it?” Dean rubbed a hand over the prickly stubble on his face and then through his hair,  
“We’re not late, are we?”

“No, we’re right on time I think,” Bobby replied under his breath as he drove his truck through the gates of the cemetery. Stull Cemetery as a matter of fact,  
“It’s almost Midnight…”

“Let me out of the car, Bobby,” Dean demanded, his skin itching from the feel of the tracker still firmly clamped around his wrist,  
“Let me out and you just stay here…”

“Dean, I’m not sure if that’s a good idea-“

“It’s my brother, Bobby. It’s Sammy. You can have your own time with him after me,” Dean hissed, his temper rising at the very thought of not having his own personal with his baby brother,  
“Now let me out of the damn car!”

Knowing it would be best if he did what Dean ordered, unless he wanted some broken bones, Bobby put the truck into park and unlocked the door. He watched silently as Dean fumbled clumsily with his seat belt, liquor bottle still in hand, and climbed out of the truck, his weak leg nearly taking him down.

“Damnit, Dean-“

“I’m fine, Bobby,” Dean interrupted, rubbing his bad leg and slamming the door shut behind him. He blinked his eyes as he started walking through the Cemetery, his goal on the exact same place he had seen Sam take the swan dive almost a year and a half ago. If there was any place in this cemetery Sam would reappear, it would be in the same place he lost him to begin with. 

The older Winchester attempted to blink back tears as he walked unsteadily, the figure of his brother suddenly reappearing right beside him.

“Get back in the car, Dean,” The annoyance was written plainly on his face as he spoke,  
“You know this isn’t the way to go. Just end it already!”

Tempted to reply, Dean instead shook his head silently as he stumbled over his own feet and fell to his knees. He was about to get back up and continue walking when he looked around and saw that this was it. This was the same place. It was right there where the ground had opened up, the sounds of the souls in Hell screeching endlessly for all to hear. It was here where Sam had given him that final look, one of nothing but love and pain before he had pulled Michael into the Cage with him.

That last image he had of his brother…until the figure beside him at appeared.

Tilting his head back as the memories washed over him and sent a sharp pain through his gut, Dean chugged down some more of the liquor until it was nearly empty. Glancing at his watch and watching as the time switched from 11:59 to 12:00, Dean held his breath.

And waited.

0000

He didn’t know how it happened. He didn’t know when it happened, really. He was being tortured, being forced to watch image after image of his big brother drinking himself into oblivion until he finally crashed the Impala and took off on foot, only to be hit by a truck a few hours later. The images flashed in front of his eyes even when he felt a presence grab onto him and pull him. Hard.

He didn’t know what it was that had pulled him, it was all so foggy. But as he finally opened his eyes, tears streaking his burnt cheeks, he looked around him and found that he was no longer in the Cage. The Cage was gone. The fire and agony and screaming was gone. What he saw now was a cemetery that looked oddly familiar…but why did it look familiar? 

Sam looked down and first noticed that he was on his hands and knees on the ground, the sky was dark and dreary; but the stars twinkling above him caused Sam to nearly cry as that alone was something he never saw in the Cage. Never. 

Feeling a sharp pain slicing through his hands, Sam closed his hazel eyes and would have screamed out loud if he was able to. If he was able to get any words out at all. Collapsing, he sat down heavily on the ground and brought his hands up, opening his eyes as he looked at them, wondering why in the world they hurt so much.

That was when flashes upon flashes of memories appeared and Sam remembered how Lucifer had scorched him, tortured him and took away all the use of his fingers, his hands; Lucifer had destroyed his hands years ago. He remembered being unable to even slightly defend himself down in the Cage due to the damage. All that he felt in his hands was pain and nothing else. Opening his mouth, Sam attempted to speak, and once again, found himself unable to.

His voice was gone. His voice had to have been stripped from him as well…probably due to the screaming he had done, the endless screaming down in the pit.

Looking down at himself, Sam saw that he was wearing the same clothes he had worn the day he had fallen into Hell; but something was different. His jacket was torn, his shirt was ripped and covered in blood and holes. His jeans were shredded at the knees, while his shoes and socks were nowhere to be found.

Folding in on himself, Sam attempted to hug his body close to himself as he shivered in the cold air. He didn’t understand why he was shivering; he had felt nothing but fire and heat and pain for all those years down in the Cage. His lower lip trembling madly, Sam attempted to push himself back to his knees as he looked around him, hoping to find some sort of explanation for this sudden rescue.

And then his gaze fell on something.

Or better yet, someone.

A loan figure was kneeling a few feet from where he was, a bottle in his hand, and he appeared to be speaking to someone or something with the way his lips where moving. Sam blinked his eyes rapidly, wondering if his eyes were playing tricks on him; it wouldn’t be the first time, mind you. The figure in front of him looked so much like his big brother, yet at the same time, it didn’t…the hair was longer, he wasn’t clean shaven like he always was and he was talking to himself.

That was not Dean.

But what if it was?

Sam attempted to open his mouth to speak his brother’s name, just in case it was him, but nearly cried when nothing came out.

0000

“Just get back in Bobby’s truck and go home, Dean,” Sam was telling him even as he shook his head in denial,  
“You’ll feel so much better, I know it-“

“Shut up!” Dean finally snapped, unable to take anymore as he glared at the figure in front of him, smirking,  
“Just shut the hell up for once!”

“I will once you do what you said you were gonna do, Dean-“

Shaking his head, Dean drowned the final droplets of liquor and let it burn his throat as he shut his eyes,  
“Just go away for once…” As he opened his eyes however, Dean looked over the figure’s shoulder and his eyes widened like saucers at what he saw behind Sam.

A loan figure, a tall figure, was struggling to his feet. His hair was plastered to his face, his clothes were torn to shreds while blood was splattered all over them. He wasn’t wearing any shoes or socks and he was desperately looking around, confusion contorting his features as he appeared to be trying to figure out where he was exactly.

This figure looked exactly like Sam, all the way down to the same clothes he had worn the last time Dean had seen his brother. Glancing in front of him and rubbing his head wearily, Dean shook his head to rid himself of what Bobby called a “hallucination” and was relieved for the moment that his “hallucination” was gone.

“S-Sammy…?” He whispered, more to himself then anyone else. His eyes stayed on the loan figure as their eyes suddenly locked and Dean couldn’t help but notice his brother’s mouth open, to say his name, but no words came out,  
“Sammy?” He repeated, watching as Sam finally made it to his feet and started walking towards him.

0000

Sam nearly fell on his face as he took that first step forward, finding himself shaking uncontrollably as his eyes finally met with his brother’s eyes…if that was his brother. It had to be Dean, there was no other way around it. If he ignored the stubble on his face and the much longer hair and the liquor bottle he had set on the ground beside him, Sam could make out his brother’s familiar face.

Opening his mouth again to attempt to say his brother’s name, all that came out this time was a low grunt. Feeling lightheaded, the younger Winchester nearly collapsed to the damp ground, but forced himself to continue walking. If that was his brother right there, if that was really him-

“Sammy?”

A sob escaped Sam as tears cascaded down his face and he pushed himself further and further until he finally was standing just a few feet from Dean. As he was unable to say anything at the moment, much less his brother’s name, Sam watched as Dean looked back and forth between him and thin air, as if he was unsure if it was Sam standing there. 

Unable to just stand there anymore, Sam rushed forward, his bare feet and legs screaming in agony, until he was standing face to face with his brother. As he watched Dean’s eyes travel behind him and then back to him, the younger brother let out another low grunt before reaching his arms out and felt his brother’s jacket underneath his destroyed hands. Glancing down as he saw the familiar looking amulet hanging from Dean’s neck, Sam choked on a sob as he then realized the truth.

This was his brother. His big brother. Here in the flesh.

Ignoring the pain, Sam reached his aching arms out and threw them around Dean’s neck, closing his pain-filled eyes as he took in his brother’s familiar scent. As he felt Dean’s arms wind at first almost tentatively around him in return and then soon clutch at him just as tightly, Sam buried his face in his big brother’s jacket and did the only thing he could do.

He cried.

0000

TBC


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Dean felt himself trembling violently the moment Sam’s hand touched his shoulder and he blinked his eyes rapidly. Was this really and truly his brother? He was actually making physical contact with him, something the “hallucination” never once did in all those moments. Looking up into Sam’s face and ignoring the bitter words the “hallucination” was saying to him, Dean tentatively lifted a shaking hand up and touched his brother’s hand, which was still on his shoulder.

What happened next nearly brought the older Winchester to his knees as he felt a pair of arms wrap tightly around his neck. Shocked beyond words, Dean was hesitant as he brought his arms up and slowly wrapped them around Sam in return, tentative at first. Feeling the shaking coming from his little brother’s body and hearing the sobs coming from him, Dean closed his green eyes as his own tears started up and tightened his arms around Sam.

This was his brother. 

His little brother. He was here, just like the Archangel had promised.

Dean felt Sam’s shaking intensify and with his arms still wrapped tightly around him, the older brother felt himself falling to his knees. Ignoring the feel of the wet dirt from the ground seeping into his jeans, Dean trembled violently as he lifted a hand and laid it on the back of Sam’s hand, pressing his face deeper into his shoulder.

All was silent for those few minutes except for the unmistakable sound of Sam’s sobs against Dean’s shoulder and after a few more moments, Dean whispered into his brother’s ear,  
“I’m here, Sammy…Y-You’re safe now…”

Sam opened his mouth and attempted once more to speak something in return, but all that came out again was a quiet grunt. Confusion filled his very being as his ears picked up on the noise he made and with a weak push, hesitantly pulled out of his brother’s arms and stared into Dean’s face. The younger Winchester tried again, but again, nothing.

“Sammy?” Dean frowned, fear for his brother taking a hold of him now as he saw that Sam was trying to speak, but no words were coming out,  
“What’re you tryin’ to say?”

He watched as Sam just shook his head in utter confusion and with a weak and damaged hand, tapped his throat, silently conveying to Dean what he couldn’t say in words.

He can’t speak, Dean thought to himself, his heart pounding loudly in his chest. For the first time in over a year, the liquor bottle resting beside them meant absolutely nothing to him and instead, his gaze was on his tormented brother’s face. This was his little brother, but at the same time, he looked so different then the Sam he last saw. There wasn’t a part of his body that Dean saw that didn’t have bruises, cuts and burn marks. And his brother’s hands…just from looking down at them, Dean could tell just how much pain Sam was in; the burn marks, the cuts and scrapes. But what stood out most to Dean and what caused him to nearly sob was the fact that on each hand, a finger was missing. It looked like someone had chosen to cut it straight off and left it that way, bleeding profusely. 

Lucifer and Michael, that was who.

Just the very thought of what else Sam could have suffered while down in the Cage caused Dean’s fury to intensify. Just the look in his brother’s eyes, that said enough and it made the older Winchester’s guilt creep back into his gut and take a hold of him. If only he hadn’t agreed to this plan in the first place, if only he had found a different way to stop the Apocalypse…none of this would have happened to his brother.

“It’s okay, Sammy; I know,” Dean chose his words more carefully then he had in so long. This was his baby brother he was dealing with right now, he finally had him back and there was no way in Hell he was going to let his own problems get in the way of helping Sammy,  
“I understand…”

Sam shook his head in agony, his dirty hair swinging around his shoulders. How in the world was he supposed to say what he wanted to say to his brother? His voice was gone; it was gone and he didn’t know if it would ever come back. Now what?

Seeing the traumatized look appear once again on Sam’s face, Dean took the lead this time and wrapped his shaking arms around his brother’s shoulders again and once again, pressed Sam’s face into his shoulder,  
“You’re okay, you’re okay.”

He knew he was lying through his teeth; Sam wasn’t okay, he was far from okay. And Dean knew he was making empty promises, but what else was he to do right now? The only thing he knew was to just rock him back and forth. Just be there. If there was one thing the alcohol would never take away from him, it was his love for his brother, broken or not.

0000

Bobby wiped his hand over his face to smear away the tears that running down his face and he forced himself to not get out of his truck and make his way over to his boys. Despite how badly he wanted to go over to them, he knew he needed to wait until they came back to him. The last thing he wanted was for Dean to kill him, and the older hunter knew the boy would at least make an attempt to.

He watched in silence, his eyes never leaving the two figures as both boys went crashing to their knees on the wet ground and even from a distance, Bobby could tell just how much pain Sam was in. What the extent of that pain was, he didn’t know; they would deal with that later. But he still silently cursed that Archangel, wherever he may be. He would drag Sam out of Lucifer’s Cage, but he still left him injured and in agony.

What the hell?

The minutes turned into nearly an hour and just when Bobby was tempted to get out of the truck and make his way over to the brothers, he watched as they both rose to their feet, the liquor bottle ignored on the ground, and shakily started to make their way slowly back over to his truck. Bobby frowned in deep worry as he saw how shaky they both were and without a second thought, opened the driver’s side door, and climbed out, rushing over to the boys.

Sam’s arm was draped over Dean’s shoulder as the older brother clutched him around the waist tightly, supporting them both as they stumbled along. Bobby kept his eyes on his youngest as their eyes finally met and his old heart nearly broke in half as Sam’s face crumpled up and more tears leaked out of his pain-filled eyes. Not bothering to get Dean’s permission, and ignoring the fact that he might get his head bitten off, Bobby stepped forward again and went to Sam’s other side, wrapping his arm around him in a half hug.

“It’s good to see ya, kid,” His usually gruff voice was filled with emotion and he closed his eyes as he rested a hand on the back of Sam’s head,  
“We gotcha now…”

Noticing from the start that something was indeed wrong with Sam’s condition, Bobby gently released his friend and exchanged a look with Dean before turning back to the younger brother. Confusion filled the older man before Dean finally broke the silence, his voice heavy with emotion,  
“He can’t speak, Bobby.”

Trying his hardest to not allow his shock and horror show on his face, Bobby chose to just nod his head in understanding as he moved Sam’s left arm over his shoulders, squishing the youngest in between himself and Dean,  
“Let’s get you home, son, alright?” 

Sam closed his tortured hazel eyes and nodded his head as he allowed his brother and Bobby to help him towards the familiar truck. As they neared, so many questions filled Sam’s brain, questions that he desperately wanted to ask, but was unable to. More specifically, how was his brother even alive? Lucifer had shown him in the Cage everything that Dean had gone through in that year and a half; he saw the accident that had taken his brother’s life. So how in the world was he still walking and talking? Putting aside the confusion for the time being, and just grateful for the fact that both Dean and Bobby were alive and here, Sam clutched Dean’s shoulder as they finally neared the truck.

Dean was alive. That was all that mattered right now. 

0000

Sam cringed in agony as he allowed Bobby to continue tending to the wounds on his destroyed hands, his eyes closing tightly so that he didn’t have to see the missing fingers on both hands. That was not something he ever liked seeing, yet Lucifer had forced him to watch when he had taken that part of him. He remembered the searing pain as he bled out. The agony. How he continued over and over again to scream for Dean, but knowing that his older brother would never be able to help him.

Until now, that is.

Noticing his brother’s cringe, Dean turned angry eyes over to Bobby and grasped his wrist,  
“Could you be a bit more careful with him, Bobby? Jesus…”

“I’m being as careful as I can, boy,” Bobby growled under his breath,  
“You think I enjoy causing pain?”

Ignoring his friend’s reply and refusing to apologize, Dean tightened his arm around his brother’s trembling shoulders as Bobby continued to work,  
“You’re okay, buddy.”

Still not used to the fact that his little brother’s voice was gone, Dean watched as Sam just shook his head in reply and hid his head in Dean’s shoulder. His heart starting to break all over again for Sam, the older brother turned to look at Bobby again as he continued to work,  
“Are you at least almost done?”

Nodding his head, Bobby put the finishing touches on the bandages on Sam’s left hand and patted the youngest boy’s arm carefully,  
“All done, kid.” The gruff hunter watched as Sam let out a shaky breath and his shoulders loosened up, but Dean never removed his arm from where it was draped over his brother,  
“Now we just need to get some food in you and then get some sleep.”

Sam once again shook his head fearfully at the very thought of going to sleep. That was the last thing he wanted. 

“You have to try and sleep, Sammy,” Dean knew what his brother was thinking, even without him saying it,  
“I won’t leave you, I promise.” He watched as Sam lifted his head up, his hazel eyes turning on the full puppy power look,  
“I promise.” He repeated and waited until Sam had wearily nodded his head before turning back to Bobby,  
“Get him something to eat, Bobby.” 

Dean knew that his attitude towards Bobby these last couple of months had to have been trying the older man’s patience; he knew that when he wasn’t snapping at his friend or ordering him around, he was ignoring him and refusing his help. But Dean couldn’t bring himself to even remotely apologize to his friend at the time. First of all, Sam needed him more then anything else and secondly, he still wasn’t so willing to let Bobby help him, especially now that Sammy was back with them.

But deep down in his gut, down so low he could barely even feel it but knew it there nonetheless, Dean still felt that twinge of guilt over how he had treated Bobby and was fully prepared for the older man to kick him out of his house one of these days. But that never happened. No matter how many months passed, no matter how many hours Bobby spent trying to get through to him, his friend’s patience never ended.

And although Dean wouldn’t admit it to anyone, he was grateful for that fact.

Feeling a feather-like touch on his hand, Dean looked up just as Bobby left the room to head into the kitchen and stared into Sam’s pained eyes. Questions where in those hazel orbs, ones that Dean couldn’t bring himself to answer just yet. With a shake of his head, the older brother laid a careful hand on Sam’s shoulder,  
“I’m alright, Sammy.”

Sam shook his head in reply, his eyes narrowing at his brother. God, this was so damn hard; he wanted more then anything to tell his brother that he knew he was not okay and that he hadn’t been okay in a long time. But how was he supposed to do that when he couldn’t speak, much less write it down?

“Really, Sam,” Dean attempted a shaky smile even as his gut was telling him to get another bottle of liquor,  
“Don’t worry about it.”

The younger Winchester frowned in reply and shrugged his shoulders helplessly. Why couldn’t Dean see that he wasn’t okay? He still didn’t know how Dean was still alive after having gotten hit by that truck, but he did know why it had happened in the first place. He knew his brother had gone to alcohol to soothe his pain once again, he knew he had gotten to the brink of despair and had practically died because of it. How in the hell was that okay?

“Just worry about you, little brother, okay?” Dean smiled and with a shaky hand, squeezed his little brother’s shoulder,  
“You just got out of Lucifer’s Cage and you’re hurt worse then me, so I need to take care of you.” The older brother watched as Sam’s eyes lowered, attempting to hide the sadness and agony from him, but Dean saw right through it,  
“Just rest, Sammy, alright?” Waiting until Sam had nodded his head tiredly, Dean leaned over and gave a gentle kiss on the crown of his brother’s head before rising to his feet,  
“I’m gonna check on your food; I’ll be right back, alright?”

As Sam nodded his head in confirmation, leaning his head back against the pillows of the couch and closing his pained eyes, Dean looked him for a few more moments before walking into the kitchen. He ignored Bobby’s questions as he entered and instead headed straight towards the fridge, breathing a huge sigh of relief as a large bottle of beer greeted him.

Popping the cap off, Dean closed his eyes and drowned the liquid, enjoying the feel of the burning sensation. He never once noticed the continued look of concern crossing Bobby’s face as he drank.

0000

TBC


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

“Did you tell him yet?” Bobby demanded as he looked up from the chicken soup he was in the process of stirring,   
“Because he will find out, Dean; he’ll find out about everything. The alcohol abuse, your deal, the hallucinations-“

“Bobby,” Dean interrupted, his tone carrying a warning to it. If there was one thing he was not going to talk about, it was this; and if there was one thing that he was not going to tell Sam, it was everything the older hunter mentioned,  
“No.”

Not at all surprised, yet still annoyed, by the older brother’s answer, Bobby shook his head with a heavy sigh and stared down at the pot briefly before looking back up at Dean,  
“Just because he can’t speak right at the moment and despite the fact he’s got some pretty nasty injuries…Dean, he’ll notice if you start lying to him. He’ll find a way to tell you, I’m sure of it.”

“He just got out of Hell, Bobby,” Dean snapped, yet kept his voice as low as possible as he threw away the empty bottle in the nearby trashcan,  
“Hell. Lucifer’s Cage. Ring a bell?” With a shake of his own head, Dean reached back into the open refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of liquor next,  
“Because I sure remember it. He’s only been back with me for a few days, Bobby, and it would destroy him if he found out about this-“

“Just don’t put it off too long, Dean,” The gruff older hunter warned, turning the stove off and began pouring a healthy portion of the soup into a bowl,  
“You’ve been through your own personal hell this last year and a half and although you might not give a rat’s ass about that, I care about it. Just like I care about that boy in there,” He nodded over his shoulder to the closed doorway and then narrowed his eyes back at his friend,  
“In the meantime, why don’t you put that bottle down and take this to your brother?” Without waiting for an answer, Bobby grabbed the bottle out of Dean’s hands and placed the bowl of soup in it,  
“Get.”

Without another word, Dean just shot a look through narrowed eyes at his friend before turning around and walking back through the door to the library. His green eyes instantly settled on his little brother and he stopped in his tracks as he noticed that Sam was now lying on his side on the couch, sound asleep. 

With a quiet sigh, Dean stepped closer to the couch and grabbed the blanket that was draped over the side and carefully spread it out over his brother. The older Winchester waited in silence as he watched Sam fidget and groan in his sleep and although a part of him thought that he should wake his brother up to get something to eat and before nightmares overtook him, Dean shook his head instead and set the bowl of soup on Bobby’s desk. 

Pulling up a nearby chair and setting it beside Sam, Dean settled into it and kept watch over his baby brother for the first time in over a year.

0000

The nightmares invading the younger Winchester’s subconscious wouldn’t end, no matter how long or how hard he tried to escape them. Sam didn’t know precisely how long he had been down in Lucifer’s Cage; every second felt like a lifetime. But now…he could have sworn that he had escaped. His brother had rescued him and he was out. 

At least, that was how it had appeared.

Sam could remember so clearly the feel of his brother’s shirt beneath his hands as he had hugged him, he remembered his brother holding onto him like a lifeline. He even remembered first laying eyes on his big brother for the first time in…however long it was. But now, all Sam wanted to do was just weep as it all appeared to have just been wishful thinking.

He wasn’t free, he was still trapped and worst of all, his brother was dead do…

Sam opened his mouth to attempt a scream, a scream of utter despair and devastation, but no words escaped. Forcing back the tears that were threatening him, Sam was about to open his mouth once more when he felt something oddly different this time. The feel of someone gently shaking him, rousing him…and his name being called.

“S’m…S’m…Sam…Sammy…Sammy!”

Eyes suddenly snapping open, Sam shot straight up on the couch and found himself looking straight into the eyes of the very person he thought was dead. Dean? Blinking his eyes rapidly to hold back the tears still threatening him, his heart pounded rapidly in his chest as he looked into his big brother’s eyes. Why was Dean looking at him that way? 

“Sammy?”

Sam opened his mouth and attempted to speak, but just like in his dream, nothing came out except for a quiet croak. Closing his eyes, the younger brother settled on shaking his head, wishing there was some way he could talk to his brother, tell him what was going on inside his head, express what he was feeling…

“You okay, kid?” 

Dean’s voice broke into Sam’s thoughts once again and although with everything in him, Sam wanted to tell the truth, he settled on the alternative; there was no way he could tell Dean he wasn’t okay. He was as far from okay as he could be. But he knew his brother was hurting, he knew there was something Dean was hiding from him as well. With a nod of his head, Sam watched as his brother sat down on the couch beside him and felt his hand come to rest on his upper arm.

“You were out for over 24 hours, Sammy,” Dean spoke, trying to keep his voice as calm and cool as possible although he was feeling anything but that right now. At first, he and Bobby had decided to just let the younger Winchester sleep; after all, he needed it more then either of them as far as Dean was concerned. But after a good 12 hours and Sam still had yet to blink an eye, both men were starting to grow a bit concerned, especially due to the fact that Sam couldn’t scream; he was unable to let them know if he was dreaming, if he was in any pain,  
“I couldn’t seem to wake you up…”

Sam blinked his eyes quickly and shook his head in reply, reaching a trembling, damaged hand out and laying it on top of his brothers’, silently communicating what he wanted to say, but was unable to,  
‘I’m good.’

“You sure, man?” Dean carefully pushed, gently removing his hand and taking a swig of the liquor bottle that was in his other hand. He kept his eyes on his little brother as he nodded his head in reply,  
“You think you could get something to eat then? You haven’t eaten in…not since you got out, Sammy. You think you can manage some soup?”

Sam’s stomach slightly growled in reply, causing Dean to let out a quiet laugh at just hearing it,  
“I’ll take that as a yes.” The younger brother watched as Dean rose to his feet and for the first time, noticed that Bobby was standing right off to the side, not saying a word. His hazel eyes watched as Dean accepted the bowl of soup that was resting in the older hunter’s hand and took a seat back on the couch beside him.

“You don’t have to eat it all, boy,” Bobby finally spoke up from where he stood, a small smile on his face as he met the kid’s eyes and noticing the slight dampness there,  
“But give it a try for us. You’ll get yourself sick otherwise.” The gruff hunter kept his dark eyes on his boys as Dean began helping his brother in a way only a big brother could. He wasn’t going to tell the Winchesters this, but his heart was heavier then ever now. 

How in the world was this all going to be fixed? Dean was an alcoholic, and would be for the rest of his life due to that damn deal. Sam was damaged both physically and mentally after his return from the Cage, and on top of that, couldn’t speak…not even his big brother’s name. And both boys were keeping things from the other, that much Bobby was certain of. Although Sam’s voice was gone, Bobby could tell just from looking at the youngest that he was anything but “okay” and knowing Sam, he wouldn’t tell his brother about it until Dean confided in him.

Damn idjits, Bobby wished he could just shake some sense into both boys. Keeping secrets from the other, no matter how big or small, was never a good idea and it never ended well. Wanting to give the boys some privacy, the older hunter silently walked away and headed back up the stairs.

He might not be able to do much for his boys; Dean might be pushing him away and snapping at him like he was the enemy…but he could do something for them besides being there as a father figure, as a friend. There was one thing that he could do that would tell the boys just how much he cared, especially when his words weren’t enough.

0000

There were very few nights that Dean was able to get a full night’s sleep, or a dreamless sleep for that matter. He would either be plagued by nightmare after nightmare or he would wake up in the middle of the night to his “hallucination” of a brother, staring down at him, glaring at him and speaking profanities to him that Dean knew his little brother would never say. He had tried so hard, especially since he got Sammy back, to just ignore the voice, ignore everything it…or he…was telling him and focus on his real brother.

But sometimes, especially when Sam was sleeping-which was a lot lately-and Dean was awake, the “hallucination” would reappear and the older brother would be unable to shake it off.

A couple of nights later was one of those nights, much to Dean’s irritation and despair. He had fallen asleep on Bobby’s floor in the library, his head on a pillow as he lay beside the couch where Sam was; he had just fallen asleep less then an hour ago when an unmistakable voice sounded in his ear, causing Dean to jerk up and look into the familiar hardened, hate-filled eyes.

Eyes that were hazel and looked so much like his brother’s, but at the same time, held no sympathy, no love. Just hate.

“How many times do I have to do this, Dean?” The figure was saying as it sat cross-legged in front of him on the floor, leaning back on his hands,  
“It’s getting old real quick.” He nodded over to Bobby’s desk,  
“Just grab the gun and put a bullet into your skull, you moron.” With a smirk, he continued,  
“Or better yet, just grab the key from Bobby’s desk and get the hard core liquor. He locked it away, Dean, and you know you need that stuff. You KNOW it. The beer isn’t gonna do you any good-“

“Shut the hell up,” Dean whispered, trying to keep his voice as quiet as possible, but also allowed the anger to leak into it,  
“Just SHUT. UP.”

Shrugging his shoulders, the “hallucination” rolled his eyes to the ceiling and rose to his feet, stalking over to Bobby’s desk,  
“You know you want to do it, Dean. What do I have to do to convince you otherwise?”

Dean shook his head and closed his eyes tightly, running a shaking hand through his hair and then down his face. When he opened his eyes, hoping against hope that the figure was gone, his heart clenched tightly as the same hazel eyes were still staring back at him,  
“Just go away, alright?”

Tilting his head back and letting out a loud laugh which Dean inwardly cringed at, the figure then shook his head and walked back over to Dean, kneeling down at his eye level,  
“You really think something like that coming from your filthy mouth is going to make me go away? Huh?” The laughter dying down, Dean watched as his eyes narrowed in slits and glared heatedly in his direction,  
“When will you figure it out, Dean?”

“Figure what out?”

Nodding at the figure lying on the couch, his bandaged hands curled up to his chest, the “hallucination” walked over to Sam’s sleeping body and pointed at him,  
“Your precious baby brother is far from okay. He’ll never BE okay, you idiot,” He snapped, smirking down at the identical face as he cringed in his sleep,  
“The nightmares plaguing his sleep, the endless visions of you dying over and over again…you know how it is, Dean; you’ve been to Hell before!” Before Dean could reply, Sam’s identical figure continued in the same harsh tone,  
“What Lucifer did to your little brother is one hundred times worse then what Alistair put you through, Dean. Any idiot would know that! Lucifer cut your brother’s fingers off for crying out loud; that has to say something, doesn’t it?”

“Shut up.”

“Your brother blames you and you know he does,” The “hallucination” continued as if Dean hadn’t spoken,  
“He hates you, he hates everything about you. He never loved you, that’s why he chose to take the swan dive to begin with. To get away from your ugly face. And that’s why he won’t tell you about the endless nightmares he’s experiencing…nightmares he’s experiencing at this very moment.” With a smile that held so much hatred it made Dean cringed visibly, the “hallucination” of his brother continued,   
“That hug that he gave you in the cemetery? Fake, Dean! Fake! He didn’t mean it-“

“Shut the hell up-“

“You’re just a selfish bastard and you know it,” Sam’s identical figure continued, walking away from the youngest Winchester and heading back towards Bobby’s desk,  
“Just drink from Bobby’s liquor cabinet, Dean. He’ll never know.”

Snorting quietly, Dean glared upwards from where he still sat on the floor,  
“Bobby always knows.”

“If you say so,” Came the flippant reply,  
“You’re the one who made that deal to get your little brother back. I say you have every right in the world now to drink it, don’t you think so?” With a raised eyebrow and a smirk, he continued,  
“The key’s right in his desk, Dean. I’ll tell you the truth, it won’t make things better…you can’t fix that selfish part of yourself that refuses to take your own life…but you can at least get rid of some of the pain from knowing how much little Sammy hates you. Just do it!”

His entire body trembling from not having a drink in a couple of hours, Dean’s heart chose at that very moment to break as he listened to the words being spoken to him. Deep down, very deep down, the older brother knew it couldn’t be true that Sam hated him, that he despised his very presence. This was Sammy after all! But in another part of him was screaming, telling him that his brother couldn’t speak, he couldn’t write down what he was feeling…which meant that there was no way Sammy could tell him otherwise. There was no way he could convince him that he did love him. His hands shaking both from lack of his drink and fear for his little brother, Dean rose his feet and almost collapsed right there from his weak leg. Clenching his teeth together, Dean closed his green eyes and pushed the pain aside and walked slowly over to Bobby’s desk.

“Thata boy.”

With one final glance at his sleeping little brother, Dean sucked in a breath and opened up a drawer to Bobby’s desk and rustled through his personal belongings until he found the small key way in the back. He knew that his older friend had hid the key to the liquor cabinet from him for his own safety. After all, Dean had started to drink more hard liquor then just beer lately and much to his frustration, Bobby had finally pulled all of it out of his fridge and locked the hard stuff up.

But now…now he knew it was something he had to get back. 

Clutching the key in his trembling hand, Dean ignored the voice beside him as he stumbled over to the cabinet and unlocked the door.

0000

Sam was dreaming…if you wanted to call it a dream. Everything felt too real, he could practically feel the pain and agony as it sliced through him all over again as he listened to Lucifer whispering to him, telling him that the car accident had killed his big brother. He wanted more then anything to shout out, to scream, to hide himself away…but none of that was possible, especially when he felt the devil start to cut off a few of his fingers. One by one.

A scream was just waiting to be let out, it hurt like no other; but as the tears rolled endlessly down his cheeks, Sam looked up through pain-filled hazel eyes and took in the form of his dead older brother.

Dean.

Dean…the most important person in his life. Even more important than his own father had ever been and even more so then Bobby. Dean was his brother and now…now he was dead. He had to be dead! His body was right in front of him, bleeding profusely from the head wound. The rise and fall of his chest that always told him that he was alive was no longer present.

Dean, no…Sam inwardly sobbed to himself as he just wanted to scream his brother’s name as Lucifer laughed behind him.

0000

TBC


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Sam opened his eyes with a start and looked around him. Confusion contorted his features as he moved his head side to side, trying to remember where exactly he was. His heart hammering loudly in his chest, the younger Winchester looked down at his hands and then up at the ceiling before turning to his left and finding the very reason why he had woken up this suddenly.

A few tears prickling in the corners of his hazel eyes, Sam’s eyes never left his older brother’s sleeping figure, sprawled out at Bobby’s desk, head resting in his arms and an empty bottle resting beside him. With a gulp, the younger brother then let out a sigh of relief and rested his head back on the pillows.

Dean was still here. He was still alive.

It was just another nightmare.

A nightmare that refused to leave him. 

Turning his eyes once again to his sleeping-or passed out-brother, Sam didn’t know which, he wished more then anything once again that he could tell Dean exactly what was going on inside his tortured brain. He knew that Dean wouldn’t talk with him about his own problems, but sadly, Sam already knew most of what had happened to his brother. But he couldn’t help thinking that there were some things he was keeping from him. He just didn’t know what and that caused Sam even more frustration.

Looking down at his heavily bandaged, damaged hands, Sam pushed back the tears that threatened his eyes again and struggled to remember the bits and pieces of his memory before he had fallen into Lucifer’s Cage. Unfortunately, that was one thing he was unable to tell Dean about: Pieces of his memory were gone. He knew that he had willingly fallen into Hell to save the world, but what had led up to it and why his older brother was at Lisa Braeden’s house in the first place was a complete and total blank. With his inability to speak or even write out what he was feeling and his lack of memory, Sam knew there was no way he could let his brother know this.

Lifting his arm, the younger Winchester clumsily wiped it over his face, smearing away the tears that were slowly making their way down his face and shakily pushed away the blanket wrapped around him. Pushing himself unsteadily to his feet, Sam slowly made his way over to the kitchen and pushed the door open with his elbow. For the first time since his return from Hell a few days ago, he found his stomach was growling.

And there was no way he was going to bother attempting waking Dean or Bobby up.

You can do this, Sam, his brain told him over and over again,  
You can do it.

His heart continuing to pound rapidly in his chest and his arms trembling madly, Sam attempted to pull open the fridge with a damaged hand and bit his lip in frustration as pain shot through at him at the small movement. Keeping the door open with his foot, the younger brother leaned forward, his eyes roaming the contents inside, searching for the leftover soup Bobby had kept for him. 

Just in case, his friend had told him.

Biting his lip even harder, Sam soon found the pot that had the leftover soup and with a cringe, attempted to grasp onto it. Before he knew what was happening though, it slipped through his hands before he had time to even completely grasp it and splattered completely onto Bobby’s kitchen floor.

Horror filling Sam’s gut, Sam collapsed painfully to his knees and closed his eyes tightly. What in the world had he just done? Before the younger boy had time to fully beat himself up however, he opened his eyes as the kitchen light flickered on and Bobby was standing right behind him, a look of both shock and understanding coming across his tired face.

“Oh Sam,” Bobby shook his head with a quiet sigh, stepping closer and kneeling down next his surrogate son in the middle of the mess in his kitchen,  
“It’s okay, boy; it’s alright.” Carefully laying his hand on Sam’s back and rubbing gentle circles, Bobby watched through sad eyes as his friend lowered his head and shook it, trying to apologize in his own way.

It was in the middle of the night and after having woken up suddenly from a dreamless sleep, Bobby was just making his way downstairs to check on his boys. A part of him just wanted to make sure they were both okay, that they were both sleeping soundly, while another part was silently urging him to go downstairs. He had just made his way into the library to find the empty couch and Dean sprawled out at his desk when he had heard the loud clatter coming from his kitchen. With a quick glance over at the oldest, Bobby had grumbled tiredly under his breath when the loud noise had not even jarred Dean awake. Not even slightly. Ignoring the fact that Dean wasn’t waking up, Bobby had rushed into the kitchen and felt his heart break at the site before him.

His usually gruff voice was gentle as he spoke reassuringly to the kid, all the while continuing to rub circles on his back,  
“It’s okay, Sam. Don’t worry about this mess, I’ll clean it up.”

Sam lifted his head and stared into his father figure’s eyes, guilt filling him. All he wanted to do right then was to apologize; how could he had been so stupid to attempt something like this? He should have known that he wasn’t able to, he should have just woken Dean up-

“None of that, boy,” Bobby gently admonished, placing a hand underneath Sam’s elbow and helping him to his feet,  
“Don’t you go beating yourself up about it.” Carefully pushing him down into a nearby chair, Bobby knelt back down and got to work quickly on cleaning the mess up on the floor. Minutes passed in silence before Bobby placed the empty pot into the sink and went back to kneel in front of the youngest Winchester,  
“Why were you attempting something like that, Sam?” Not expecting an answer, he continued,  
“Why didn’t you wake Dean or myself up?”

Sam lifted his shoulders in a guilty shrug and opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out once again was a quiet grunt. Anger filling him at how ridiculous he sounded, Sam sighed and shook his head apologetically at Bobby.

“Next time, you do that,” Bobby ordered,   
“You could easily have hurt yourself.” Looking over his shoulder and straining his ears to see if Dean had woken up in the other room but finding that he hadn’t, the older hunter sighed again and looked back up at Sam,  
“Will you do that next time, Sam?” He waited until the younger boy had nodded his head before he patted Sam’s arm gently,  
“Thata boy. Now, I take it you were hungry, huh? That’s why you came in here in the first place, right?”

Sam’s face flushed bright red, embarrassment over this whole situation filling him but nodded his head, waiting to see what Bobby would do next. When a smile crept across his friend’s face however, Sam’s stomach growled in hunger, reminding him of why he had come in here to begin with.

“Then let’s get you something to eat, boy, alright? And then you’re going back to sleep. You need it,” Bobby rose to his feet and made his way back over to the fridge,  
“And there’s something I want to show you and your brother tomorrow, so you need some food in you and a good night’s sleep. Is that understood, Sam?” Looking straight into Sam’s hazel eyes, Bobby watched as he nodded in understanding before nodding his own head,  
“Good. Now let’s get something in that stomach of yours, huh?”

0000

“Okay, boy, let’s get one thing straight before that brother of yours wakes up,” Bobby was saying the following morning as he shut the door of the kitchen and turned to face the older Winchester,  
“So you better listen and listen good, Dean.”

With a roll of his eyes to the ceiling, Dean shook his head and took a seat in one of the kitchen chairs,  
“I know, I drank myself silly last night, Bobby, and wasn’t there when Sammy needed me. I don’t need you to make me feel worse, alright-“

“I’m not going to try and make you feel worse, Dean,” The older hunter interrupted with a weary sigh, leaning against the door jam and crossing his arms over his chest, all the while pinning Dean with a serious look,  
“I’m really not. But listen to me, alright?”

“I’m listening.”

“Alright. You know that this whole drinking business isn’t gonna come to an end any time soon; and I’m not asking it to-“

“I sense a ‘but’ coming, Bobby.”

“But,” Bobby stressed the word as he spoke,  
“You will have to get it under control at least a little. At least attempt to, Dean-“

“I know how to take care of my little brother, Bobby!” Dean snapped and was about to continue when his friend held up a hand and silenced him.

“I know that, you damn idjit,” Bobby snapped back, opening the door of the kitchen a crack and peeking his head out to check on the younger Winchester. Satisfied that Sam was still sleeping, he closed the door again and turned back to Dean,  
“And believe it or not, I’m not telling you HOW to. You’ve taken care of that kid longer then I’ve ever known him, so I’m not telling you what to do here. What I’m telling you is this. That boy could easily have gotten himself hurt last night and you were so passed out at my desk that you didn’t even hear him in the kitchen!” He watched as a look of guilt crossed Dean’s face and with a sigh, softened his voice,  
“All I’m sayin’, Dean, is that he didn’t want to wake us up so he was attempting it on his own.”

“I know.”

“You better know, boy, because there’s something I want to offer you boys today, but I won’t do it if you can’t promise me you’ll try harder.” Bobby looked Dean up and down, waiting for him to meet his eyes,  
“You understand me, boy?”

Guilt tearing at his insides over what he had allowed to happen the previous night, Dean kept his eyes lowered as he listened to his friend’s words. Oh did he ever understand what he was saying. He had drunk himself into an oblivion once again…thanks to the hard liquor he had snuck out of Bobby’s locked cabinet.

And his Sam-hallucination.

He had not told Bobby it, and he wasn’t planning on it, but ever since the last hallucination appeared and had talked him into getting a hold of the hard liquor…the appearance of that figure that looked exactly like Sammy…it was tearing him up inside. He knew that everything that he had was all due to him being selfish, but the last thing he wanted was for his baby brother to hate him.

And that was exactly what was going to happen if he told Sam about his drinking deal…that is, if Sam didn’t hate him already.

“Are you listening to me, Dean?” Bobby stepped closer to him and rested a careful hand on the older brother’s shoulder,  
“Dean?”

Wanting more then anything to shrug the hand off of him, but another part needing-no craving-the comfort, Dean chose to allow Bobby’s hand to stay where it was as he looked back up at him,  
“I hear ya.” As his friend nodded his head and breathed out a sigh of relief, Dean gulped quietly and continued,  
“Hey, Bobby?”

“Yeah?”

“Um…” Dean found himself suddenly at a loss for words as he lowered his green eyes,  
“Uh, do you, I mean, does…?”

“Well, spit it out, boy,” Bobby grumbled,  
“Do I what?”

“Sammy hates me, doesn’t he?” He finally spit out, not meeting Bobby’s eyes as they suddenly flashed sparks.

“What?” The older hunter growled, removing his hand from Dean’s shoulder,  
“Run that by me again, boy. You want me to tell you that your little brother, the same brother you sold your soul for, the same brother who has looked up to you his entire life…you want me to tell you that he hates you? What else have you been drinking, Dean, because that’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard-“

“I’m being serious here, Bobby!”

“And so am I, you idjit!” Bobby couldn’t keep his voice down any longer, but with one final peek into his library to check on Sam, he turned back to Dean,  
“Seriously, Dean, what has that hallucination of your brother been tellin’ you?”

“It doesn’t matter, Bobby-“

“It matters and you know it,” Bobby hissed, stepping closer until he was right in Dean’s face,  
“I could tell you exactly how Sam feels about you, but I know that wouldn’t do you any good. You need to ask him yourself, even though he can’t speak.” Lowering his voice again, sadness crept across his face as he spoke,  
“But if he could, I’ll tell ya what he’d say, boy. He’d say that he has never hated you, never thought any less of you and has always loved you.” Not noticing any type of reaction on Dean’s face, Bobby ran a hand down his face,  
“Dean-“

“No, I hear you, Bobby,” Dean interrupted, rising to his feet and making his way back to the door,  
“Doesn’t change anything.” Pushing the door open and ignoring the devastated look on Bobby’s face, the older brother crossed over to Sam and knelt down beside the couch. Ignoring the aching pain from his bad leg, he stared at the lines creasing his brother’s forehead and felt his heart ache all over again as he watched pain cross Sam’s face,  
“I’m sorry, Sammy,” He whispered, lifting a trembling hand and laying it on top of his little brother’s head, running a gentle hand through his long hair,  
“I’m really sorry.”

0000

“I didn’t know you had a guest house, Bobby,” Dean arched an eyebrow as he looked around the small one story log cabin, safely nestled behind Bobby’s house. He kept his arm wrapped securely around Sam’s waist as he carefully guided his brother over to one of the beds and pushed him down onto it,  
“All these years…”

“Yeah, well, it was never needed until now,” Bobby replied with a shrug,  
“It’s close enough to me, but it also gives you boys the privacy that you need. The entire place is already angel proofed and demon proofed, so you don’t have to worry about any of that. The fridge is stocked for you boys as well and if you need anything else, you know where to find me.”

Dean’s green eyes roamed around the small, yet comfortable, place and allowed a tiny smile to cross his face,  
“It’s nice of you to do this, Bobby.” He glanced over at his little brother and moved to take a seat beside him, all the while lifting the nearly empty beer bottle to his lips. Drowning the remainder of it, Dean rested the now empty bottle on the hard wood floor and moved his arm to wrap around his little brother’s shoulders,  
“What’cha think, Sam?”

Sam’s hazel eyes travelled around the small place, taking in every nook and cranny there was. It was tiny, but it was peaceful, very much like how Bobby’s place was, only this cabin comfortably fit two people. The living room and kitchen were pretty much all one room, while the beds were tucked safely in the corner. Just as Bobby had pointed out, angel proofing sigils as well as demon proofing were surrounding the place, giving them a sense of security. Wanting to thank his friend more then anything, Sam let a small smile of his own cross his lips and rose to his feet, making his way over to Bobby, wrapping his arms around the older hunter in a tight hug.

“You’re welcome, kid,” Bobby wrapped his arms around his friend tightly in return and met Dean’s eyes over Sam’s shoulder,  
“I’ll be by every so often to check on you boys to make sure you’re okay.”

“We’ll be okay, Bobby, thanks,” Dean replied with a nod of his head.

Ignoring the words from the older brother, Bobby patted Sam’s back as he released him,  
“Take care of your brother, you hear?” He pinned Dean with a hard look as he backed away towards the front door, arching an eyebrow as the older brother shot a hard look right back at him that clearly said, “Duh.”

As soon as the door shut behind their friend, Dean rose to his feet grabbed the bag of salt nestled beside the door and laid a good amount out in the doorway and the windowsill. Once finished, he made his way back over to his brother and took a seat beside him again,  
“You tired, Sammy?”

As his brother nodded his head and let out a yawn, Dean rose to his feet and helped Sam out of his jacket,  
“Then let’s get you settled for a nap now, shall we?” Just as he was about to push his brother back down onto the bed, he stopped as he watched Sam shake his head hard,  
“Sam, if you’re tired, you need to sleep-“ He stopped talking as Sam continued shaking his head, fear contorting his features,  
“You’re scared?” He waited to see if Sam would nod his head and when he didn’t, Dean took that as his answer,  
“I’ll be right here, kiddo, I promise.” He watched as a look of impatience came over Sam’s face and Dean’s heard clenched in his own grief for his brother; he knew that Sam wanted to tell him something, but with his inability to both speak and write, that was impossible,  
“Just rest for a while, alright?”

After some more pushing and prodding, Dean finally managed to get his little brother settled in under the covers of his bed,  
“You’re okay, Sammy,” He whispered, watching as Sam’s eyes fluttered a few times before finally shutting. With a small sigh, Dean closed his green eyes briefly before opening them again and just stared at his brother for a moment. Pleased that Sam was at least asleep for the time being and looking peaceful, Dean shrugged out of his own jacket and tossed it onto the bed beside Sam’s.

His eyes travelled through the small guest house that Bobby had loaned to them and he couldn’t help a small smile to appear on his lips. Despite how badly he had been treating their friend for the past year and half, Dean couldn’t help feeling relief flow through him that Bobby had done this for them. Running a hand down his face, he grabbed the empty beer bottle and made his way over to the kitchen, looking underneath the sink and behind a nearby door for the recycle. Finally giving up and tossing the bottle into the garbage can, Dean was just reaching for the handle on the fridge when something caught his eye.

“You know what that is.” The familiar voice sounded from behind him. Dean didn’t even have to turn around to know who-or what-was speaking to him. He knew the hallucinations would follow him no matter where he went; even though he and Sam were now in a place of their own for the time being, that didn’t stop the voice speaking to him.

Choosing not to comment or even turn around as the hallucination of his brother continued speaking, Dean moved towards the large box that was hidden behind the partially open door off to the side. His gut was telling him one thing, to ignore it, to just go and grab one of the bottles of beer from the fridge, but the hallucination part was telling him otherwise. This was what he needed.

Pushing the door all the way open, Dean looked down and knelt beside the box, opening it up. 

“You can’t get rid of it, Dean; it’s a part of you now,” The voice continued behind him as Dean picked up the bottle of hard liquor,  
“What’dya know, I’m sure Bobby just forgot he stored this in here. He hasn’t used this place in ages so it’s yours now, wouldn’t you agree?”

Dean’s heart pounded rapidly in his chest as he looked at the bottle resting in the palm of his hand and then glanced back over at the fridge. Minutes passed before the older Winchester finally pushed aside what his gut was telling him to do and unscrewed the cap of the liquor bottle, his little brother’s soft breathing echoing in the house from the other room.

0000

TBC


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

1 month later…

In the time he had been back on Earth, this was by far the worst feeling he had ever felt, by far. The physical pain, the mental pain, all of it…nothing compared to this moment as he was kneeling on the floor beside his brother’s bed, his damaged hand resting on Dean’s shoulder as he attempted to shake him awake.

And being unable to call his brother’s name.

Sam’s heart pounded loudly and quickly in his chest as he attempted once more to shake his brother awake to no avail. This wasn’t happening to him; how could this be happening to him?

Dean! Sam’s brain screamed in terror and desperation as he painfully moved his hand from his older brother’s shoulder and shakily laid it on his neck, feeling for a pulse. Thankfully, there was one, but his heart was pounding just as loudly as Sam’s,  
Dean, wake up! Please, wake up!

0000

24 hours earlier…

Dean knew he was getting worse instead of getting better; he wasn’t stupid. If there was one thing he was clear about in his brain, in his head, it was that small fact. No matter what he tried, no matter how hard he fought, the hallucinations and the drinking of hard liquor would just not go away. But then again, a part of him didn’t feel like he deserved to have any of it go away, especially the hallucinations.

The older Winchester now knew that was exactly what those visions of his little brother were, especially after Sam himself had returned from Hell. But despite the well known fact that this was all in his head, that he was just seeing what his brain was telling him to see, his “Sam hallucinations” were still there.

And they didn’t appear to be going anywhere anytime soon.

As Dean lay sprawled out on his bed, listening as the shower ran in the bathroom and not paying any attention to how long Sam had been in there, the older brother reached over to the bedside table and grabbed the half-empty bottle of liquor laying there. Sitting up, he took a long swig until it was empty and reached down to stash the now empty bottle under his bed.

Dean knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Sam knew already what this had all come to; he was well aware that just from the looks his baby brother gave him on a daily basis that he knew something was up. But then again, Dean also knew that Sam’s nightmares weren’t getting any better. As a matter of fact, his big brother instincts were telling him that they were getting worse, but being stubborn as ever, Sammy had just shaken his head in reply every time Dean had confronted him about it.

Why though, the older Winchester wasn’t sure.

You know the reason, you idiot! His mind hissed at him and Dean shook his head in denial. If Sam wasn’t finding some way to tell him about his nightmares all because Dean wouldn’t confide in him in return…No, that was all nonsense. Sam wouldn’t do that. After all…didn’t his little brother hate him?

“He does, Dean; you know he does,” The all-too familiar voice hissed to his right and Dean didn’t even have to turn around to know who-or what-was right beside him,  
“I’ve told you a million times already, you selfish bastard! And yet, you still won’t listen to reason…will you?”

“Shut up,” Dean hissed as he scrunched his eyes shut, listening closely as the water of the shower turned off,  
“Just shut the hell up.”

Watching out of the corner of his eye as the figure shrugged his shoulders and rolled his eyes, Dean leaned further into his pillow and kept his eyes shut, waiting for the usual comeback that usually came after this type of argument,  
“Whatever. But I’m right; I know it and you know it. Just stop lying to yourself, Dean! Sam’s life would be so much better without you in it! I’m surprised you haven’t killed yourself from that hard liquor yet…actually, I take that back.”

“What are you talking about?”

“What I’m talking about is that the reason you haven’t gone all the way to kill yourself is because you’re too damn selfish, too wrapped up in your own problems and misery to see the bigger picture. What about that little brother of yours? Sammy-“

“Don’t you dare call him that,” Dean whispered, his eyes still shut as he felt a few tears leak out from under his eyes and down his cheeks,  
“I’m the only one who gets to call him that-“

“Only if you’re alive,” The hallucination interrupted with a loud snort,  
“Sheesh, Dean, what will it take for me to convince you the truth?”

“Because you’re a liar and a smart-ass son of a bitch, that’s why,” Dean snapped back, turning back around and looking straight into the face that was a complete copy of Sam. He opened his mouth to continue, but suddenly stopped as soft footsteps sounded from the other side of the cabin and Dean knew his little brother was just coming out of the bathroom. Despite everything and despite the fact that Dean knew that he wasn’t being the big brother he knew Sam deserved, the older Winchester never allowed Sam to shut the bathroom door whenever he was using it. His hands were so damaged beyond repair, with the missing fingers and burns, and Dean wasn’t about to let his brother suffer any more just by attempting to open a bathroom door.

Shooting a quick glance behind him to make sure there were no bottles in site and attempting to not growl as the “Sam hallucination” still lay sprawled on his bed, chuckling, Dean rose unsteadily to his feet and made his way over to his little brother as he got closer,  
“You okay, kiddo?” He waited as Sam nodded his head, his teeth chattering despite the robe he wore and strands of wet hair sticking to his face,  
“Let’s get you into something warmer now, alright?”

He stopped walking as he felt shaky fingers grasp onto the sleeve of his over shirt, causing Dean to arch an eyebrow at his brother,  
“What are you trying to tell me, Sammy?” His voice was as gentle as he could make it, even though he could tell with his own ears that it shook madly,  
“What is it?”

In reply, Dean’s heart shattered all over again as all that came out was a quiet grunt and the older brother watched as Sam’s hazel eyes closed shut tightly before he opened his mouth again and this time, the older Winchester listened as Sam croaked out,  
“D…D…”

“You’re okay, little brother,” Dean whispered, carefully reaching over wrapping his brother up in his arms. He felt Sam’s damaged hands clutch weakly once again to his shirt as his head came to rest on his shoulder,  
“You’re okay…”

Feeling his little brother shake his head against his shoulder, Dean brought a trembling hand up and laid it against Sam’s head, letting it rest there for a few moments before speaking again,  
“Don’t try and say anything else, Sam, I gotcha.”

Sam kept his eyes closed the entire time he allowed his brother to hold him, but as he listened to Dean speak, the younger Winchester wished more then anything in the world that he was able to say more then just the first letter of Dean’s name. That wasn’t enough. He had to tell Dean; he just had to. 

The nightmares, Dean’s drinking habit-if that’s even what it was-the slowly disappearing bottles of liquor in the kitchen and…the fact that he had caught Dean talking to thin air more then once when his brother thought he was asleep. That could only mean one thing and one thing only and it tore Sam apart that he couldn’t help him.

0000

The scorching pain, the red hot pain from the fire burning him, torturing him, wouldn’t stop. Everything hurt, from the hair on his head to the tips of his toes and through it all, Sam continued to scream with everything in him until he couldn’t scream anymore. There was never any other moment then right now that he wanted-needed-his big brother. But Dean was dead, Lucifer had shown him his big brother’s body, crumpled up after having been hit head on by a truck. 

Pain shooting through him all over again, the younger Winchester let out another ear-piercing scream,  
“DEAN!”

Lucifer’s maniacal laughter, one of such hatred, such evil, tore through him, as he felt the devil’s claws pierce through him and before Sam knew it, felt the unmistakable torturous pain as Lucifer grabbed each of his hands, one by one…

0000

Dean’s eyes never left his little brother’s body as he slept that night, not caring in the least that he himself was tired and was about to pass out at any minute. With a small shake of his head, he lifted the almost empty liquor bottle back up to his lips just as he felt a wave of dizziness flow through him. Not moving from his spot on his bed, the older brother lifted the bottle back up to his lips and drank.

“Thata boy, Deano,” The “Sam hallucination” clapped from right next to him before nodding down to the second full bottle on the bed,  
“Drink up, there’s another one for you. Might as well make it nice and quick, that way your precious little Sammy won’t know what you’re doing,” He lifted an eyebrow as Dean turned and finally faced him,  
“You know what he’s dreaming about, right?”

“Shut up,” Dean’s speech slurred as he let the empty bottle drop to the floor with a clatter and went to unscrew the cap of the second,  
“He’s fine…He’s fine…See?” Nodding towards his little brother as he took another long sip, Dean’s eyebrows suddenly shot up to his hairline as he watched Sam toss and turn in the bed beside him. Even with the lights turned off and it being pitch black outside, Dean could still make out his brother’s body as he turned to face him, his face now scrunched up in what the older brother knew from experience, pain and agony,  
“Sammy…?”

With another shake of his head, the dizziness starting to take him over, Dean turned back to say something to the hallucination, only to find it just himself now sitting on the bed. With a soft grunt, Dean was about to swing his legs over the side of the bed to go and wake his little brother up when his entire world shifted. 

“Sammy…” That was all the older Winchester remembered mumbling incoherently to himself before blackness consumed him.

0000

Dean’s name was on Sam’s lips the minute he shot up in bed, sweat pouring from his brow and down his face. His big brother, he needed his big brother…to know that he was alive and well. He just had to be alive!

“D…” That was all that escaped the younger Winchester’s lips as he trembled in terror, lifting his bandaged hands to his face and attempted to wipe away the tears that were now freely flowing. Shooting a blurry glance to his right to check on Dean, Sam’s heart rate catapulted as he saw his brother now sprawled out on his back on his bed. An empty liquor bottle was lying on the hard wood floor and another bottle appeared to have spilled from his hand and liquid was seeping into the comforter of the bed. 

Unable to stop himself, not caring anymore about keeping all of this from his brother, Sam shakily climbed out of bed and dropped to his knees beside Dean’s bed. Lifting a trembling hand and placing it on his big brother’s shoulder, Sam attempted to shake him awake. Opening his mouth again to speak, but finding nothing coming out this time, Sam attempted an even harder shake, his eyes never leaving Dean’s face.

Did Dean pass out from the drinking? Was he in a deep sleep? 

Attempting again, Sam felt the tears start up again and rain down his face,  
Dean! Wake up! DEAN!

Nothing. Nothing except for the sounds of his brother’s breathing…that had to mean something, didn’t it? It meant he was alive; but also, why wasn’t he waking up?   
Removing a hand from his brother’s shoulder, Sam reached down and nudged the empty liquor bottle resting near his knee and turned it over with a finger poking out through the bandages. His heart rate increased as he got a good look for the first time at what it was his older brother had been drinking all this time.

This was bad. This was really bad.

DEAN! Sam’s brain continued to cry out…because there was no way Dean was dead. He wasn’t dying because of this drinking he had gotten himself into over the year and a half he had been in Lucifer’s Cage,  
Dean, please! Don’t do this! Don’t do this!

0000

TBC


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

It crossed Sam’s mind more then once to run as fast as he could back over to Bobby’s house and grab his friend to help him. Everything he attempted to do to rouse Dean out of…whatever it is you want to call it…wasn’t working and the youngest Winchester was growing more worried and scared as the minutes ticked by. Heart pounding loudly and quickly as he shook his brother’s shoulder again, Sam drew in a trembling breath and opened his mouth, putting everything he could into saying his brother’s name,  
“D…De…!”

Glancing down at his watch and seeing that it had only been 15 minutes since he had found his unconscious brother, Sam shook his head, fear coursing through his veins. It didn’t feel like 15 minutes; it felt like 15 years! Ignoring the pain in his hands, Sam pounded as hard as he could on his brother, determination winning out over the physical pain.

Just as he was about to climb to his feet and make his way over to Bobby’s, a movement a quiet groan sounded from in front of him and Sam’s eyes widened in shock. Was Dean waking up? Was he going to be okay? Still kneeling on the floor, Sam kept his bandaged hands on his older brother and attempted to meet Dean’s eyes as they fluttered open, confusion and drowsiness showing plainly in his green eyes.

The last thing Dean remembered as his eyes slowly opened, seeing his little brother staring down at him with fear written all over his face, was watching that same brother tossing and turning in bed. Seeing Sam being confronted by yet another nightmare, a nightmare that Dean had done nothing to help control, to help Sam with. Seeing his little brother’s face contort in that same fear, that same agony…What the hell had happened before that though?

“S’mmy? What’cha doin’?” He slurred, sitting all the way up, but feeling himself shaking in the process. Running a hand down his face and then through his tousled hair, Dean let out a quiet moan and blinked his eyes rapidly. Despite the fact that his memory was indeed still foggy of everything that had happened before waking up to his brother’s full puppy dog face, Dean attempted a shaky smile and rested a hand on Sam’s shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting manner,  
“G’back to sleep, k’ddo-“

“De…” Sam interrupted with a hard shake of his head, rising to his trembling feet and moving to sit next to his big brother.

Memories of the hallucinations slowly making their way back into his brain, Dean pushed everything aside-the guilt, the fear, the anger and even more guilt. Sam didn’t deserve to hear him whine and complain over hallucinations and his drinking, especially when his little brother was looking at him with such fear and concern on his face,  
“I’m okay, S’mmy,” He attempted to speak more coherently as he blinked his eyes once, twice, three times…anything to make him sound like he was indeed okay.

Sam narrowed his eyes, his gaze hardening slowly as he tilted his head towards the empty liquor bottle on the floor, silently trying to communicate what it was he was trying to say. Why couldn’t Dean see what this was doing to himself? This was killing him, slowly but surely and Sam was slowly starting to get angry over the fact that Dean couldn’t see this. Rising to his feet, the younger brother bent down and clumsily picked up the empty bottle and held it up so that Dean could see it, shaking it in front of him,  
“De…” He attempted to say his brother’s full name once again, but like before, only the first few syllables would escape his mouth. Sighing with impatience, he shot a hard glare Dean’s way before looking at the liquor bottle and back to his brother.

Sighing himself and rolling his eyes, not willing to get into this conversation with his little brother, especially when Sam was the one who needed to sleep without nightmares torturing him, Dean rose to his unsteady feet. His legs almost giving out from under him, he nearly fell to the ground but soon found Sam’s arms holding him up,  
“I’m okay, k’ddo,” Dean tried again, reaching over and grabbing the bottle from Sam’s hand and tossing it across the room,  
“Don’t worry about me-“ He was suddenly cut off when he felt Sam’s hands grabbing his shoulders and giving him a shake. Irritation flowed through Dean right then as he shook his brother’s hands off,  
“What the hell, Sam? Get off of me,” He demanded, pushing Sam carefully away. He didn’t want to hurt his little brother-of course he didn’t-but Sam needed to sleep and Dean…well, Dean just needed to disappear into his own dream world and try to forget all of those hallucinations.

Not one to give up, even without a voice or full use of his fingers, Sam tried to hold back tears at Dean’s push and the fact that he wouldn’t even listen to reason. No, he wasn’t going to allow Dean to do this to himself. He didn’t know the whole story; he didn’t know if he ever WOULD know the whole story…he knew parts of it all the way up until Dean’s accident, but afterwards? He was completely clueless and his brother was going to talk with him about it even if he had to force it out of him physically. Pushing back the wetness gathering in the corners of his tired, hazel eyes, the younger Winchester grabbed onto Dean’s shoulder yet again as his brother turned around to climb into bed, but was unprepared for his older brother’s reaction this time.

“I said get off of me, Sam!” Dean’s anger out-won all his fear and guilt and just the feel of Sam’s hand on his shoulder sent turning around, throwing his little brother’s damaged hand off of him. Before he knew what he was doing, and before he could even stop himself, the part of Dean that hated himself more then anything found his hand forming into a tight fist and throwing a hard punch into Sam’s jaw. 

Dean knew what he had done just as he felt his fist come in contact with his baby brother’s face and saw Sam stagger back, falling to the hard floor. Guilt and hatred at himself tearing through every fiber of his being, Dean pushed back the tears that were forming in his green eyes and took a step forward as his eyes never left Sam’s face. The younger brother’s hand was resting on his cheek, shock and fear now showing plainly in those large hazel eyes. But what Dean knew he would never forgive himself for was the tears that were now raining down Sam’s cheeks…the fear in his eyes that was now directed at him.

What had he just done?!

“Sammy…”

Sam’s heart broke into another million pieces as soon as he felt Dean’s fist punching him. He knew he was treading on thin ice with his brother; he knew that Dean was not going to willingly speak with him, but this was serious business and Sam loved his brother too much to allow him to hurt himself like this. But nothing could have prepared him for this. Nothing could have prepared him for Dean punching him. Unsure how to respond as a fear unlike any other coursed through his body, Sam kept his damaged fingers on his cheek as he looked up into Dean’s eyes as he spoke his name.

“Sammy.”

Feeling himself shaking uncontrollably, even as he witnessed Dean’s eyes changing from the hardened look he had earlier to the familiar soft, gentle look he was used to. He didn’t miss the guilt and the shame taking over his face as he stepped forward hesitantly. 

How could you do that to him? Dean’s head was telling him as he shakily made his way over to his brother and knelt down in front of him,  
He was trying to help you! He was worried about you, as he should be!

“Oh my God, Sammy…” Dean reached a trembling hand out to his own shaking brother and held his breath as Sam didn’t move an inch towards him; but he didn’t move away from him either,  
“I’m so sorry…I’m so, so sorry, kiddo…”

His eyes still on his little brother, watching, waiting, Dean felt his heart pound rapidly in his chest as Sam never made a move to wipe away the tears on his face. Instead, they continued flowing and Dean was almost certain that Sam was going to get up and walk away from him. He deserved it; he deserved nothing less if his brother chose to do that right then. He wouldn’t judge him for it.

Sam’s eyes remained locked on Dean’s as he took in his brother’s words, his movements. Was his big brother back? Or was he going to hit him again? Sam didn’t want to think about that alternative; all he wanted to do was help Dean, help him understand what his drinking endlessly was doing to himself-and to him. All he wanted was to let Dean know that he didn’t hate him…

Hazel eyes moving from Dean’s stretched out hand to his guilt ridden features, Sam opened his mouth and shakily attempted his brother’s name again,  
“D-De…an…”

Before Dean knew what was happening, he soon found his little brother’s extra large body lunging straight at him and his trembling arms looping around his neck. Closing his green eyes tightly, Dean hugged Sam tightly back and laid a careful hand on the back of his neck,  
“I’m so sorry, Sammy…” Feeling his brother nod his head against his shoulder and his arms tightening around him, Dean uttered back shakily,  
“I’ll explain everything, alright? And-and then we’ll take care of those nightmares of yours, okay?” Sam nodded once more quietly against him and for the first time in too long, Dean felt the first of the hundreds of bricks ease from his chest.

0000

“I’m not even going to ask how your brother got that split lip, Dean,” Bobby grumbled, arms crossed, as he leaned against his kitchen counter and narrowed his eyes,  
“But I have to ask, where the hell did you get that box of liquor?”

Both Winchester brothers looked up at Bobby’s voice and Dean felt another twinge of guilt flow through him at the mere reminder of last night. Passing out, Sam attempting to wake him, punching his brother in the face when he was just trying to help him…Choosing not to comment on that, as he knew Bobby would never forgive him, Dean instead set the large box down in the middle of the kitchen and met Sam’s eyes,  
“It was in our cabin, Bobby…”

“Oh for the love of God,” The older hunter growled with a roll of his eyes as he moved closer to the box,  
“I completely forgot that was in there…Let me guess, you drank from it, didn’t you, Dean?” Seeing the look on the older brother’s face, Bobby nodded,  
“I thought so.”

“We’re getting rid of it, Bobby,” Dean quietly continued, shooting a sideways look at his brother, who nodded in confirmation,  
“Goin’ back to the beer…it’s better that way…” As he spoke, he kept his eyes on Sam the entire time.

“I never should’ve had that crap in there to begin with…” Bobby mumbled, moving forward and grabbing the box to set it on the kitchen table.

Nodding silently, feeling uncomfortable talking about this, Dean moved his hand to rest it on Sam’s shoulder and squeezed,  
“I need to talk with Bobby for a few minutes, Sam, alright?” As his brother nodded with a quiet yawn, eyes showing plainly that he didn’t sleep at all the night before, Dean’s eyes stayed on his brother as he disappeared behind the kitchen door and into the library,  
“Bobby-“

“The hell did you do, boy?” Bobby hissed, moving until he was nose to nose with the older brother.

“I apologized to him-“

“And of course he forgave you, that’s how Sam is,” The older man interrupted, not moving from his spot,  
“You promised to take care of him, Dean. And don’t think I don’t know that you started to steal from the liquor cabinet in there,” Nodding towards the door Sam had just disappeared behind, Bobby continued,  
“So yeah, I know you started that up before I let you stay in my guest house.” He watched as Dean attempted to speak, but he stopped him,  
“You wanta know why I didn’t say anything about it, boy? Because I knew you would eventually get your head out of your ass and get it on straight! Lord only knew how long it would take, but considering I love you boys like my own, I chose to have faith in you.” He nodded towards the open box still lying on the table,  
“So tell me, how much did you drink out of there before you decided to bring it back to me?”

“Too much.” Dean never met Bobby’s eyes as his friend laid into him.

With a heavy sigh, Bobby nodded and attempted to get his own temper under control,  
“Thought so. So tell me, did punching that brother of yours help?” 

“Bobby, stop it-“

“Answer the question, Dean,” The older hunter interrupted, feeling guilty himself by throwing this in Dean’s face.

“I passed out last night from drinking too much and the hallucinations started up again while Sam was asleep,” Dean quietly replied, sinking down into a nearby chair, his bad leg slowly starting to act up again,  
“He tried to help me, to get me to confide in him and I wasn’t having any of it…so I hit him. I regretted it immediately, Bobby; I just was worried about his nightmares and he wouldn’t go back to sleep-“

“Can you blame him?”

“No,” Dean carefully rubbed his leg, feeling pain shooting through it and he gritted his teeth before continuing,  
“It wasn’t intention, Bobby. You really think I wanted to hurt my little brother after everything he’s been through?”

“No, I don’t,” The gruff hunter replied, pulling up a chair himself to sit in front of Dean,  
“I know you love that boy; just like I love him. And I happen to care about your wellbeing, that’s why I’m laying into you like this,” He waited until Dean looked back up at him with weary eyes,  
“Just please tell me you’re going to tell him the truth…”

“We will today,” Dean let out a tired sigh,  
“And we’re going to attempt to deal with those nightmares of his…He’s managed to say my name, Bobby…”

“He’s talking?” 

“Barely,” The older Winchester replied, not moving his eyes from the floor of the kitchen,  
“He was just able to get the first two letters of my name out, but after I hit him…He was able to get it all the way out.”

“That’s good, that’s good,” Bobby nodded, finding himself smiling slightly at this news,  
“And the hallucinations?”

“I’ll let him know about them, but I don’t see them going away any time soon,” Dean replied, rising to his feet and running a trembling hand through his short hair,  
“I mean-“

“Are you having them now?”

Green eyes moving over Bobby’s shoulder, the older hunter watched as Dean’s eyes narrowed angrily and he turned to take a look but as always, found nothing,  
“I’ll take that as a yes.”

Meeting Bobby’s eyes again, Dean nodded his head silently, waiting for his friend’s reaction to this.

“What will it take for you to know the truth, Dean?” Bobby carefully asked, stepping forward and placing his hands on Dean’s shoulders,  
“What will it take for you to see yourself differently?”

With a shrug of his shoulders, Dean chose not to answer that question. How in the hell was he supposed to answer it anyways? It was a question he himself couldn’t even answer. Moving his eyes away from the “Sam hallucination” standing right behind Bobby’s shoulder, Dean walked over to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of beer,  
“Do you have any extra cases of beer left over?”

Knowing he wasn’t going to be getting anywhere regarding this hallucination shit anytime soon, Bobby chose to just nod his head and walked to stand beside Dean,  
“I’ve got some downstairs, boy. You can have it on one condition,” Waiting for Dean’s nod, he continued,  
“Promise me-and you must mean it this time-that you’ll stick to this and you’ll allow Sam to watch that you don’t drink yourself into an oblivion again. I for one am not ready to let you die on me, kid; and I know for a fact that Sam isn’t either.”

Ignoring the hisses of the hallucination whispering into his ear, Dean forced back the tears threatening his eyes and nodded his head,  
“I promise,” Before Bobby could turn and walk downstairs, the older Winchester added as he turned to face his friend,  
“And I’m sorry, Bobby.”

0000

TBC


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Sam’s mind swarmed with the latest nightmare, the memory of Lucifer torturing him, cutting him, laughing at him and lighting him on fire. The memories were still so vivid in his mind even as he woke up from his nap early that evening, the devil’s voice still shouting in his ear. Flinching as he felt the pain and torture all over again, the younger Winchester opened his hazel eyes and looked around him. He knew he and Dean were going to be discussing serious issues that evening, but where was his brother? And where was he?

Blinking his eyes tiredly, Sam turned over onto his back and sat up slowly, taking in his surroundings. The cabin. He was back in Bobby’s cabin which he was sharing with Dean.

Before the younger brother could try and think of where Dean could have suddenly disappeared to, his brother’s voice sounded from the other side of the room near the kitchen and Sam sat all the way up, straining his ears. He was about to climb up and out of bed when his brother’s words caused him to stay seated. 

Dean wasn’t talking with him; he wasn’t talking with Bobby…then who could he be talking to? 

“Get away from me, you son of a bitch! I won’t do it, I won’t do that to my little brother!”

What the hell?

Sam’s hazel eyes narrowed as he listened carefully, taking in every word his brother was yelling. What was going on with Dean? There was nobody else in the cabin with them…

“I’m tellin’ you, don’t come near me, don’t go near Sammy! I know, I know I was an asshole this morning…I know it’s all my fault, but get away from me, you son of a bitch!”

Hallucinations? Was that what was going on with his big brother? 

Sam’s heart broke into tiny pieces at the mere thought of his brother suffering from this. Who or what was he seeing? How long had this been going on? His heart thudding in his chest, Sam slowly climbed to his feet, cautious as he made his way over to where his brother was still yelling into thin air. He didn’t want to get punched in the jaw again. Although he didn’t blame Dean for that as he was clearly unstable, he still didn’t want it to happen. They both had their issues that needed dealing with and for starters, Dean was going to talk with him about it right here and right now.

The younger Winchester opened his mouth, attempting to say his brother’s name again,  
“D…D’n…De…De…an…” The words came out too quiet and too slow, but Sam stubbornly pushed on, taking another step closer,  
“De…an…” As his brother came into view, Sam stopped in his tracks as he took in Dean’s trembling shoulders and the rage in his green eyes, as well as his tightly closed fists. This was not good, not good at all; he needed to be careful if Dean was going to hear him out,  
“Dean…?” 

Finally. Finally, his brother’s name came out clearly. Sam breathed out a sigh of relief and took another step closer but soon stopped as he watched his brother’s fist go flying through the air and hitting nothing. Just nothing. His heart breaking all over again for his brother, Sam felt his hazel eyes brim with a few tears as he cautiously stepped closer, reaching a shaking, damaged hand out.

“Dean…” His voice shook as he tried with everything in him to think of what he could do that would make his big brother see what was real and what was false. Finally realizing there was only one way and knowing he was taking a big risk of getting hit again, the younger brother pushed aside the fear rising in him and stepped even closer until he was directly in front of Dean. Not wasting this opportunity, as it was now or never, Sam watched as his brother’s arms lowered as he got into his face and wrapped his arms tightly around Dean’s neck, squeezing him with all the strength he had in his frail body,  
“Dean.”

This was not what the older Winchester was expecting; he didn’t know what was happening to him. He didn’t know how he had gone making himself and Sammy something to eat to having a full fist fight with a hallucination. Maybe it was due to the fact that “hallucination Sam” refused to shut up? Maybe it was because he was whispering into his ear continuously and Dean had no other option but to reply back.

But that was when things had taken a turn for the worse and Dean knew he was in serious trouble. He wasn’t listening, wasn’t paying any attention to what was going on in the other room. Sam was asleep-as he should be-and every time he had turned around to check on his little brother, he was still out cold…until “hallucination Sam” reappeared in his peripheral vision and all had gone downhill from there. Whether his little brother was asleep or awake, he didn’t know.

All that mattered was getting his hallucination to shut up and get away from him…and for the first time in so long, it was scaring him, although he would never admit it.

Dean had just taken what he hoped was a good swing at the jaw of the figure in front of him when he was suddenly taken aback by another solid figure of his brother standing right in front of him. Before the older brother could comprehend just what the bloody hell was going on, he felt a pair of arms wrap tightly around him and hold him tightly.

The first instinct, of course, was to push away. To fight it off. He didn’t want this hallucination touching him in any way…but then again, “hallucination Sam” had never once in all those months touched him. Not once. So that could only mean one thing, couldn’t it?

“Dean…” A voice whispered tentatively, softly into his right ear and Dean could have sworn he stopped breathing for a few seconds as the voice said again,  
“Dean…”

Sammy.

This was Sammy talking to him. Talking. Saying his full name without any slur or letters missing. This was his little brother speaking to him, and holding him…His brother. That meant…

That meant Sam was real. The figure behind his little brother was suddenly gone and Dean closed his eyes tightly and reached shaking arms up to wrap around Sam in return. As his arms encircled his brother’s waist, he felt Sam’s face dig deep into his shoulder and his arms tighten around his shoulders, all the while speaking again,  
“Dean…”

“Sammy…” Dean finally uttered as he felt the slight tremble of his brother’s shoulders,  
“Sam?” Feeling Sam nod his head against his shoulder, the older brother tightened his arms around Sam and soon found the two of them falling to the hard floor,  
“I’m sorry, Sammy…” Another nod,  
“You…shouldn’t have seen that…”

Feeling a shake of his brother’s head even as he continued to hold onto him, Dean quietly asked,  
“What are you trying to tell me, Sam? That it’s not my fault?” Nod, nod and another nod,  
“No, Sam…”

Finally pulling away so that he was face to face with his big brother and looking straight into his eyes, Sam narrowed his eyes at Dean and attempted to speak something else,  
“Y…Y…es…”

“You stubborn bitch,” Tears that were brimming in Dean’s eyes slowly released and rolled down his face,  
“You never give up, do you?” He watched as Sam shrugged his shoulders and shook his head in reply,  
“God, Sam.” Reaching out, he pulled his little brother back into his arms and held on tightly, closing his green eyes once again as he saw the hallucination reappear right behind Sam’s shoulder.

0000

“I’ll bet anything you thought I had died in that accident, right, Sam?” Dean asked the sensitive question, his eyes never leaving his little brother’s face as he sat across from him on Sam’s bed,  
“When I got hit by that truck…” He watched Sam’s facial expression and his heart hurt as his brother lowered his head to hide the look in his eyes as he nodded,  
“I’ll bet it was Lucifer and Michael that made you see that, is that right?”

Another nod.

“Son of a bitch…” Dean growled to himself, closing his hand into a fist and punching the bed. He was just about to let out another growl when he felt the soft, gentle touch of Sam’s hand on his and he looked up to see his little brother pointing a shaky finger at him, eyebrows furrowed,  
“Me?” He pointed to himself, trying to understand what it was Sam was attempting to ask,  
“What about me, Sammy?”

Frustrated more then anything that he wasn’t able to ask what he wanted to ask his brother, Sam sighed slowly and closed his eyes before opening them again to point back at Dean. His eyes hardened a bit as he stared his brother down.

“How did I get to that place?” With Sam’s nod as he lowered his bandaged hand down to his lap, Dean sighed and ran a hand through his hair, which he still had yet to take some scissors to,  
“I was drunk, Sammy. I was drinking myself into an oblivion for over a year. I know you wanted me to stay with Lisa and Ben, to live that apple pie life, but Sammy…I couldn’t…” Seeing Sam’s eyebrows furrowing, the older Winchester continued,  
“I got your tape in the Impala after I left their place, kiddo…” He watched as Sam’s eyes filled with tears but didn’t fall,  
“I don’t know, Sam, I just felt like I didn’t deserve that peace even though you wanted that for me. I should’ve found some way to save you from the pit, Sammy; I should’ve found some way to prevent you from taking that swan dive to begin with…” He watched as Sam shook his head hard but continued anyways,  
“I ignored Bobby as much as I could, I wouldn’t let him take care of me, to help me…I even up and left his place after he found me, Sam. I wouldn’t have none of it. I made sure to keep my phone turned off most of the time so that he wouldn’t find me,” Sighing, he rose to his feet and reached for his pillow on his bed, grabbing the familiar plastic bag he had kept hidden underneath. Placing it in his lap as he sat back down across from his brother, Dean fiddled with the edges of the plastic wrap, not meeting Sam’s eyes,  
“Drinking was the only thing I could think of to ease the pain…that time when you died in Cold Oak, remember that, Sam?” At his brother’s nod, Dean pressed on,  
“That was nothing compared to this. I stopped caring about anything and everything, Sam, Bobby included…but I especially stopped caring about myself.” He watched as the look on Sam’s face turned to devastation at this revelation. Turning back to the bag he held in his lap, he opened it up and dumped it out into his hands, placing it so that it was in Sam’s line of vision,  
“It was when I found this, little brother, that I hated myself even more.”

Sam furrowed his brow as he reached a hand out and clumsily turned some of the pages over. The letters he had written to Dean while he was at Stanford but had never sent. The cards Dean had sent him for his birthday. The pictures he had kept hidden, with his messy handwriting on the back…All of these items had been in his bag, hidden deep below underneath his clothes and laptop.

“I have to know something, Sammy.”

Sam glanced up through blurred vision, his hand resting on a sealed envelope that was addressed to his big brother but never delivered and never opened. Oh thank heavens…

“I need to know, and you can shake your head yes or no for me, but…those letters you wrote when you were at Stanford,” At Sam’s nod for him to continue, Dean sucked in a trembling breath,  
“Did you mean everything you said?”

Sam’s hazel eyes widened in complete shock at the question before they narrowed slightly and he turned back to the pile of letters and weakly grasped the sealed envelope he was just examining. Not wasting any time, as he didn’t have time to waste when it came to this, Sam met Dean’s sorrowful eyes and held it out to him, nodding his head as he silently ordered him to open it.

Silently opening the envelope, his heart pounding loudly in his chest, Dean licked his lips and pulled out the piece of paper inside. Taking a quick look down at the envelope and seeing Bobby’s name with his name underneath, Dean swallowed and started to read.

Dear Dean,  
I’m writing this to you because I need you to know something and understand something. I’m too chicken to call you and tell you over the phone as I’m about to break every rule of your “no chick-flick-moments”. It’s something I should’ve said before I walked out that door when I left you and dad, but I was too scared and too angry. 

I was never angry at you, Dean, when I left that night. I never wanted to leave you, I just wanted to leave the life dad had laid out for us; I wanted normal. But I also knew that in order to do that, I probably would have to leave you behind as I knew that you wouldn’t agree to go with me to Stanford. (Although I would have loved to have had you as a roommate) It’s only day one so far and I already miss you more then I ever thought I would. You’ve always been with me every step of the way, you’ve been my big brother and a parent to me when dad never was. You’re my best friend, Dean, and I never meant to hurt you the way I did. I hate myself for doing that to you, but at the time, I felt like I had no other choice.

If there’s one thing I strongly regret, it’s the way I left you and dad. I left and didn’t turn back and I’m truly sorry for doing that to you, I’m so sorry. I hope you believe me when I tell you that life just isn’t the same without Dean Winchester here to put itching powder in my clothes or Nare in my shampoo…or to just be there as soon as I wake up from a nightmare. It was always you that did those things and now I’m with a roommate who doesn’t know the life I led or the big brother that I left behind. 

The AWESOME big brother I left behind, I guess I should say. (There, I said it, you’re awesome, Dean) But seriously, though, I miss you (and yes, I miss dad). But more then that, you have to know that I love you, big brother and I hope you still consider me your little brother after everything. I hope I still mean as much to you as you do to me. Please be safe and take care of dad for me, alright?

Sammy

“You really hated me calling you Sammy back then,” Dean mumbled more to himself then to his brother as he re-read the last couple of lines of the letter,  
“And yet you addressed it as Sammy…” He blinked back tears as he met his brother’s eyes,  
“Sam, I don’t…” His words were cut off as he felt his brother’s body lunge at him once more and hold onto him tightly. Still clutching the letter and envelope in his hand, Dean shakily held onto his brother in return as he continued speaking,  
“I wish you had sent that…” 

Silence passed between the brothers as Sam pulled away and took the letter out of Dean’s hand. In it’s place, he passed him a picture and as the older Winchester turned it over, he had to force himself to not cry at the words Sam had written on the back.

My hero

“You really feel that way about me, Sam?” He watched as his brother’s face took on a look that was clearly Sammy bitch-face and Dean couldn’t resist a small chuckle which soon turned into a quiet sob,  
“Sam, I let you down in ways I can’t even describe…You saw me talking to thin air earlier, didn’t you?” Dean knew his brother was waiting for him to continue, so he didn’t look up. Instead, he fingered the picture in his hands and re-read the words on the back over and over before continuing,  
“Those hallucinations I’ve been having…they’ve been happening for nearly a year, Sammy; and they’re not just any hallucinations. I’ve been seeing them in the form of you the day you jumped into the Cage, Sam. What I’ve heard it say…it’s my own head telling me things that I believe myself. That I’m worthless, I’m useless, a selfish bastard for not killing myself earlier, a horrible big brother for allowing you to die…Everything you can think of, Sammy, I’ve been hallucinating it. And the more it happened, the harder I drank…” Dean sighed and ran a hand down his face, smearing away the tears that were flowing freely,  
“I wound up homeless, kiddo; I didn’t even care about the Impala or how she looked on the outside or inside…I was on the streets, begging for money so that I could get more alcohol. I don’t know, Sam; it was what I thought was best, as I cared about nothing at the moment. It was like…nothing in my life mattered as long as you were in Hell, Sammy…” Dean’s voice cracked as he looked back up to meet Sam’s hazel eyes, which were now shining with tears. His heart broke all over again for his little brother as this was the part he longed to not tell him about; what would Sam think of him then? Would his little brother still think of him as his hero, his big brother?

“Dean…Dean…” Sam’s quiet voice broke Dean out of his trance and with a quick look back up at his brother, the older Winchester chose to continue.

“I was seriously considering doing the unthinkable, Sammy. Killing myself. I was seriously thinking of doing what a hallucination was telling me to do because I believed it myself. In a way, I still do, Sammy…” As he spoke those few words, Dean chose not to look back into Sam’s devastated face. He couldn’t watch his brother’s face turn to one of complete hatred and disgust as he spoke,  
“I did crash the Impala, Sam. I ran it into a telephone pole, but ended up walking away…that was over 6 months ago. I don’t remember whether or not I was walking in front of oncoming traffic, but I got hit by a truck. I survived, though, Sammy; I wound up with a broken leg and some broken ribs, but at the moment, I didn’t care at all, even when Bobby finally found me…” Still not looking up, Dean went on,  
“That’s why I’m walking with a slight limp, Sam. No matter what Bobby tried to get me to do, to take care of myself, I ignored everything…the only thing that got me going again was when he told me we were gonna work on getting you out of Lucifer’s Cage, Sammy.”

Dean stopped right then as he met his little brother’s warm gaze and then looked down as he felt Sam’s hand resting on his own. He watched as Sam nodded, silently urging him to continue. Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, Dean’s gaze traveled over Sam’s shoulder and forced himself not to say anything as “hallucination Sam” reappeared, glaring directly into his eyes. Not knowing what else to do, the older Winchester curled his fingers and grasped onto his baby brother’s damaged hand and held on tightly. He watched as Sam let out a small gasp of pain from the contact, but just as Dean was about to release it, his brother returned the grasp as best as he could and held on silently, understanding showing plainly in his large hazel eyes.

“…Sorry, Sammy…” He was about to say more when he was silenced with narrowed eyes and a small squeeze on his hand.

A few tense moments passed between the brothers before Dean continued onward, his voice now shaking with what he was about to reveal,  
“I know you wanted me to promise not to try and bring you back, Sammy; you made that pretty clear in the car that night you said ‘yes’…but I couldn’t do that, kiddo, I just couldn’t. Sam, I made a deal with an Archangel to get you out of the Cage…” He stopped talking as he was met with Sam’s wide, shocked eyes. Dean didn’t say anything for a few more tense moments as he watched the look on his baby brother’s face change from shock to anger and back to shock before it settled on understanding,  
“I promise I didn’t sell my soul, Sam. We learned our lessons when it came to that, but I wasn’t about to let you rot in there…even in my condition, I couldn’t do it…The reason why I’m still drinking every day, Sam, is because that’s part of the deal. He would get you out of the Cage if I would continue drinking for the rest of my life. If I stop…If I stop drinking, not only will I die, but you’ll wind up back in Hell…”

More shock passed over Sam’s face as he took everything in that his big brother was telling him. His first instinct was to get angry that Dean would make this deal; that he would risk his health for him. Although he knew that his brother didn’t sell his soul to a demon, Dean’s life was still at risk if he stopped drinking…but it would also be at risk if he continued drinking. Unsure how to respond, Sam looked deep into his brother’s green eyes which were filled with sadness, regret, anger, guilt and a never-ending supply of self-hatred. Dean was already punishing himself so much over this whole shit load of crap; he hated himself and was putting all the guilt on his shoulders…this was a burden nobody should have to carry by themselves.

Especially his big brother.

What Dean needed was something only Sam himself could offer and that was his love. He needed Sam to show him he was loved and although he couldn’t tell him right then and there because of his lack of voice, he could do the next best thing. 

“I don’t want you to hate me because of this, Sam-“ Dean was in the process of continuing, the silence overwhelming between him and Sam, when he was thrown back by yet another strong embrace from his baby brother. Shocked beyond words that his brother was hugging him and not punching him in the nose, Dean sat still for a few seconds before bringing his arms back up and holding Sam close to him. The brothers sat that way for a couple of long moments, each with their own thoughts flowing through their heads, but the tense silence was replaced with a comfortable silence. This was his little brother’s way of telling him how he felt after his entire revelation without having a voice and for now, Dean could live with that.

0000

TBC


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

“You’re doin’ good there, Sam, just one more try on that sentence and we’ll put this away for the night,” Dean gently urged as he held the flashcards out to his brother a couple weeks later. Meeting Sam’s tired, hazel eyes, he nodded his head encouragingly and pointed to the flashcard in his hand,  
“You can do it, kiddo.”

Sam’s face contorted in frustration as he fidgeted in his chair and let out a long sigh,  
“Dean…No…more…”

“Yes, one more, Sammy,” Dean refused to give up as he leaned over and rested a gentle hand on his little brother’s arm,  
“Just one more and then you can go to sleep.” He couldn’t resist a chuckle as Sam sent him his famous bitch-face complete with another sigh. Taking a sip of the beer resting on the kitchen table beside him, the older Winchester nodded again,  
“No bitch-faces, Sam; come on now.”

Sam closed his hazel eyes tightly and forced himself to not lose his mind with frustration. Damn, this was so difficult. Who knew trying to get your voice back after over a year and a half in Hell would be so hard? It had been almost a month since Dean had confided in him-finally-about everything that had happened while he was…gone. Dead. Whatever you want to call it. During those couple of weeks since then, things had changed drastically between him and his brother and Sam finally found his brother starting to smile again. It never lasted long, but it was there. Although the younger Winchester knew Dean was still struggling horribly with the hallucinations that were appearing to him daily, as well as thoughts of ending his own life, Sam chose to remain by his brother’s side no matter what. There wasn’t much else he could do until he got his voice back and was able to express verbally to his brother exactly what he was thinking.

He had tried ever since that night to express to his brother about his nightmares, and although he knew Dean understood he was having them on a regular basis, Sam was growing angry that he couldn’t tell him what he was dreaming about. He couldn’t even write it down for him, for Heaven’s sake! Looking down at his hands and cringing at the permanent damage done to them as well as the missing fingers on each hand, Sam shoved back the tears threatening his eyes and stubbornly lifted his head to meet Dean’s eyes. He owed his older brother this; he owed it to him to try again despite how hard it was for him. He would do anything for Dean and he would continue to do help him any way he could; and in return, his older brother was trying to help him.

The least he could do was let him.

Licking his lips and tucking his hands in the familiar hoodie he had taken to wearing again, not wanting to see them at all, Sam forced himself to remain calm as he folded his arms on the back of the chair he had straddled and leaned in closer to look on the flashcard Dean was holding. With a couple more tries as his weak voice wouldn’t cooperate, Sam stubbornly spoke, his voice shaking,  
“M-My…big…b-b-bro…brother…is…a-a-awe-s-some…” With a weak glare at his older brother as he saw the smirk on his face, Sam shook his head. Despite everything that had been going on, Dean still found the time to make the flashcards himself…and of course he would included sentences such as this one.

“Awesome, Sammy,” Dean praised him, not commenting on the fact that Sam’s voice was very shaky and weak. Sam needed as much encouragement with this as he could get and any type of improvement was good, no matter how small it was,  
“Okay, I’d say that’s enough for the night.” Scooting his chair back and grabbing his bottle of beer, drowning the remaining liquid, Dean reached over and rested a hand on his little brother’s shoulder, gently squeezing,  
“You’re doing great there, kid; you really are.” Seeing the plain exhaustion on Sam’s face as he rested his head in his folded arms, Dean set the now empty bottle back on the table to move his other hand to Sam’s back,  
“That’s not the most comfortable place to sleep, Sammy-“

“Shu-t up…” Sam mumbled with a quiet sigh, exhaustion slowly starting to take over him. 

Rolling his eyes, Dean shook his head and helped lift his brother from the chair, manhandling him until they reached his bed. As he gently laid his little brother’s head down on the pillow, the older Winchester moved to remove Sam’s hoodie but stopped when his brother pulled away,  
“No…L-Leave…it-t…”

“Sammy, you don’t have to hide this from me,” Dean took a seat on Sam’s bed and carefully lifted one of his brother’s hands which was still hidden inside the hoodie,  
“You don’t-“

“No,” Sam interrupted, voice trembling but not moving his hand from his brother this time. The tears that were threatening his eyes finally released and he allowed one to fall down his cheek,  
“Dean…”

“Okay,” Dean sighed and finally gave in this time as he released his little brother’s hand and watched Sam tuck them both back underneath him to hide them,  
“Okay…but listen up, Sam, alright?” He waited until Sam had moved his head to look his way before continuing,  
“We’ll be talking about those nightmares and everything else you can’t express right now when you’re able to fully talk again.” Dean watched as Sam lowered his head and nodded sadly, understanding and sadness showing on his face,  
“That’s the only reason we haven’t discussed this in full yet.” 

“S-Sorr-y…” Sam stuttered, his voice growing quieter as his eyelids grew heavier.

“None of that, Sammy,” Lifting a hand, he ran it tenderly through his brother’s hair just as Sam fell asleep. With a quiet sigh, Dean rose to his feet and just as he was making his way back over to the kitchen table, the familiar figure that still managed to find his way into his jumbled mind appeared out of the corner of his eye. Forcing himself to ignore it and looking down at his sleeping baby brother, Dean moved a slightly trembling hand and rested it back on Sam’s shoulder as he felt his brother’s easy breathing. Closing his eyes and counting to 10, the older Winchester opened them again and looked behind him.

The hallucination was gone.

With a nod of his head, Dean let out a sigh of relief and just as he was about to make his way over to the kitchen table again, the older brother caught his reflection in the nearby mirror and slightly grimaced. His hair, which had always been short, was now almost down to his shoulders once again; his face was thinner due to not having eaten well until just recently; and that annoying stubble. He had always naturally been clean shaven, but now, it was like he didn’t even own a damn razor! Although things were slowly starting to get better for him, taking care of his appearance on the other hand was something that was a lot harder to do. It probably had a lot to do with the fact that his guilt and self-hatred was still manifesting itself in his hallucinations…his “Sam hallucinations”. Although he had taken to getting his hair trimmed and shaving off most of the beard since Sam’s return from Lucifer’s Cage, he didn’t keep up with it. He didn’t do it on a routine basis. Yet, Sammy never once brought it up, even though his baby brother was starting to get his voice back. Guilt still churning in his gut, Dean turned away from the mirror and made his way to sit back down at the table.

Pulling another bottle of beer that was resting on the table next to the empty one closer to him, Dean unscrewed the cap and took a small sip just as his eye caught something familiar out of the corner of his eye, resting on one of the shelves.

Sam’s laptop.

Sadness flowing through his body, Dean looked back over at his sleeping little brother as he suddenly realized for the first time that Sam, with his damaged hands, would never be able to use his computer like he used to. Anger once again over this whole situation churning in his gut, Dean forced it down as he moved to grab the laptop and open it up. This would give him something to do so that he wouldn’t have to pay attention to the figure that was appearing behind him again.

As he logged onto his brother’s email, knowing his brother well enough to know that Sam wouldn’t mind, Dean berated himself all over again. He should have been keeping tabs on this during that year and a half Sam was gone; he shouldn’t have been off getting himself so drunk, he nearly got himself killed! Pushing aside the feelings of guilt and hatred into the deeper corners of his mind as his eyes took in the last couple of emails, Dean’s breath caught in his throat as he saw a familiar name staring back at him.

Sarah Blake.

What the hell? 

Glancing at the date and noticing that it was sent over a month ago, Dean shot one more glance over at Sam before clicking on the link. Just as he read the first line however, he logged off of Sam’s email and logged into his own. His heart hammering in his chest as he waited for everything to download, Dean’s eyes suddenly widened as he saw that Sarah had sent him an email as well…dated yesterday.

Figuring it would be best to not read his little brother’s message, Dean clicked on the message of the email sent to him and read.

Dean,  
This is Sarah Blake, I’m not sure if you remember me or not, but you and Sam helped me out years ago. I know it seems rather strange to just email you out of the blue, but Sam isn’t responding to the message I sent him and I’m concerned. I just need to know if he’s okay, Dean. I might be losing my mind, I don’t know, but I’ve heard gossip and just want to check with you as you are his brother.  
Please let me know one way or the other.

Thank you,  
Sarah Blake

0000

“That was really thoughtful of you to do this for your brother, Sam,” Bobby smiled the following morning as he pulled his truck back up to the small cabin his boys were residing in and cut the ignition,  
“Your voice is getting a lot better, too, I haven’t told you that yet, have I?”

Shrugging his shoulders as he fingered the bag that was draped over his arm, Sam’s gaze drifted over to Bobby as his face flushed slightly,  
“It-t’s…okay, B-B-Bobb-by…” Frustration and soon anger contorted his face and Sam inwardly cursed to himself. Saying Bobby’s name was one of the harder things to say and it was driving him crazy! It was especially hard going out in public; but he had allowed his friend to do most of the talking for him and he had made sure to keep his hands hidden inside the hoodie he was still wearing. Despite the fact that it was a beautiful day out that morning, Sam’s self-consciousness had won out and there was no way in Hell or on earth that he was going to allow the public to see him like that. Just going out in general was difficult enough…but he was determined to do this for Dean. He would do anything for Dean, even risking public humiliation; but that didn’t mean he would go around showing his damaged hands to everyone and allow himself to be ridiculed. 

“You okay there, son?”

Bobby’s question caused the younger Winchester to jerk out of his thoughts and he nodded his head with a tiny smile in Bobby’s direction,  
“Yeah.”

Patting his friend’s knee gently with a small smile of his own, the older hunter grabbed his truck’s keys and opened the driver’s side door. Seeing that Sam was struggling to get the passenger door open, Bobby hurried around to the other side and helped the younger boy out,  
“Easy does it, Sam,” Without bothering to ask, he took the bag from Sam’s arm and shut the truck door shut.

As Bobby pushed the door open to the cabin, he and Sam suddenly stopped in his tracks just as they saw Dean make his way into the front room and his leg nearly give out from under him. Cursing under his breath, Bobby rushed forward and grabbed the younger hunter under the arms before he fell completely to the floor and helped him onto the nearest bed,  
“Damnit, boy!” 

Hissing under his breath at the sudden pain in his leg, Dean closed his green eyes tightly and was unable to hold back the groan as he rubbed his leg. Damn it, would this ever end?

“You know what, Dean?” Bobby began as he knelt down in front of the older Winchester and laid his own hand on Dean’s bad leg,  
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I have to say that couldn’t have come at a better time-“

“The hell, Bobby!” Dean snapped, glaring at the older man. How in the hell could this have been a good thing. He was about to continue when his little brother moved to kneel down next to Bobby, concern showing plainly on his face,  
“I’m okay, Sammy-“

“Dean,” Sam began slowly, motioning to the bag in Bobby’s hands. He waited until Dean met his eyes before he pulled his hurting, damaged hands out from the sleeves of the hoodie and allowed Bobby to drape one of the handles over his arm,  
“F-For…you…”

“Sam, c’mon, you know you don’t have to get me anything-“

“Shut…up…” The younger Winchester interrupted, his hazel eyes serious as he reached inside the bag,  
“B-B-Bobb-y…help…?” As the older man reached inside the bag to help Sam retrieve what was inside it, Sam lifted his head and smiled slightly at Dean,  
“Y-Y-ou’re h-hurting, Dean…” Before Dean could reply, Sam and Bobby pulled from the bag a black leg brace. One that would fit underneath Dean’s jeans and would help him with walking.

Forcing back a wave of emotions as Bobby helped Sam lift the leg of Dean’s jeans up and using the Velcro straps to secure it in place, Dean shook his head and bit his lower lip,  
“You didn’t have to do that, Sammy…”

“He knows that, you damn idjit,” Bobby replied before Sam had a chance to,  
“But he was determined and you know there’s no going around the stubbornness of this idjit here,” He smirked and motioned to Sam as he rolled his eyes,  
“Accept it, Dean, alright?”

Silence filled the cabin as Bobby rose to his feet and patted his shoulder and then squeezed Sam’s before making his way out the door and back to his truck. Dean listened as the truck disappeared down the gravel road before looking back into his little brother’s now huge puppy dog eyes,  
“Sam, really, you didn’t have to go and get that for me, I’m fine-“

“No, y-y-ou’re NOT…” Sam insisted, biting back a cry of pain as he slowly and shakily rolled Dean’s pant leg back down,  
“L-et me…h-help you, Dean…” 

Biting his lip again and blinking his eyes rapidly to hold back tears that were threatening him, Dean reached out and rested his hands on his baby brother’s shoulders,  
“Why, Sam?”

His eyes never leaving his brother’s face, Sam simply replied,  
“Because.”

Sighing softly as he lifted the leg of his jeans back up and examined the brace, testing his leg out as he stretched it, Dean then realized that it didn’t cause him any pain when he did just that. Rising to his feet, the older brother tested his leg out as he walked around the cabin and then back to his brother. He waited until Sam had risen to his feet before he spoke again,  
“Thanks, Sammy…” He lowered his head again and shook it as he rested his hand back on his right leg. His brother-his little brother who had just gotten back from Hell not long ago-had gone out of his way to get his brother, his brother who was an alcoholic, a brace for his leg that he had damaged on his own. He didn’t deserve that; he didn’t deserve to have that bestowed upon him-

“You d-do d-d-des-erve it, Dean…”

At Sam’s words, Dean was unable to think of anything more to say. So instead he just reached out and pulled his little brother close to him, allowing the tears that were stinging his eyes to fall now that Sam couldn’t see his face,  
“Thank you, Sammy…”

0000

TBC


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Sam felt a small smile curve his lips as he tightly embraced his brother in return, allowing Dean to hold onto him for the next few moments. He actually helped his brother; he was finally able to do something for his brother and make him feel like he was important and loved again. If there was anything that could cause the youngest Winchester to smile, it was that.

The embarrassment of going out in public in his condition was worth it just to see Dean smile. It was all worth it.

Giving his older brother one final squeeze, he finally felt Dean release him but his hands remained on Sam’s shoulders as he looked in straight in the eye,  
“There’s something I wanted to show you, Sammy, something that I found last night.” A tiny smile appeared on the older brother’s face as he laid a gentle hand on Sam’s back and guided him over to the table where he had left the laptop the night before,  
“I just realized last night that I never once checked your emails while…well, you know…”

Sam lowered his head as he felt his brother gently push him down into a chair but lifted it as Dean took a seat next to him,  
“t’s o-o-kay, Dean.”

With a quick shake of his head, Dean maneuvered the laptop over so that it was in between them,  
“Well, I checked your messages last night as well as my own, and…” He looked straight into Sam’s confused hazel eyes,  
“You got a message from an old friend who I think believes you’re…well…”

“D-ead?” Sam guess quietly as he looked at the computer screen. A sadness consumed him as he realized once again that he most likely would never be able to use his laptop again; not with his hands in the condition that they were. Sure, he was still able to feel things, he was able to move his remaining fingers around for the most part, but it still hurt like a son of a bitch. He was missing a thumb and pointer finger on one hand while the other looked even uglier, his pointer and middle finger missing as well as a pinkie. There were also permanent burn marks all over his hands and pealed skin which made the younger Winchester sick to his stomach every single time he looked at them. Bobby and Dean had done all they could in helping with the pain and making sure an infection didn’t take place, but that didn’t stop the humiliation, the self-consciousness every time someone saw him like this. 

Attempting to hide the damage inside his jacket that he hadn’t taken off yet, Sam cleared his throat uncomfortably and looked over at Dean, who was watching his every move in silence,  
“Who?”

“Do you remember Sarah Blake, Sam?”

If Sam was prepared at all to hear this “friend’s” name, he wasn’t. Not by a long shot. Sarah Blake? Sarah Blake from New York? The first girl whom he had shared his first kiss with since Jessica was killed? That couldn’t be right, could it? But then again, Sarah was in the know about the hunting world and she knew what Sam did, even in the short time they had known each other; so it only seemed to make sense that she would somehow find out about the Apocalypse and Lucifer or whatever it was that she had found out,  
“Did…y-you…?”

“No, I didn’t read your email, Sam; but I found out because she emailed me, too,” Dean replied as he logged into his little brother’s email account and found the unread message at the very top and clicking on it,  
“I’ll let you see what she was has to say for yourself.” With an encouraging smile, the older brother pushed the laptop closer to Sam.

Brow furrowed, Sam scooted closer to the table and started reading.

Sam,  
It’s been so long since I’ve talked to you or heard from you and I’m hoping that this finds you alive and well. I hope that you’re doing alright, Sam. I’ve heard many a rumor this past year that you had been killed and I’m hoping against hope that it was just a rumor, just people talking, and that it wasn’t true.   
I don’t know all the things you’re going through right now, but if you’re still out there, please let me know. I care about you, Sam, and I haven’t stopped thinking of you since the last time I saw you. I just want to know that you’re okay. Please.

Fondly,  
Sarah Blake

“S-S-She t-hinks I’m d-d-dead…” Sam stuttered, his eyes still on the computer screen for a few more moments before he turned wide eyes back to his brother,  
“S-S-Sarah…”

“Would you like me to reply to her for you?” Dean suggested as he took the laptop back and logged into his own account,  
“I won’t tell her everything that happened to you, but I could reassure her that you’re alive?” He waited until Sam had nodded his head earnestly, sadness once more filling his eyes at the very thought of Sarah Blake believing him to be dead. If she only knew the full truth…she wasn’t too far off track.

“Okay then,” Dean nodded as he clicked on his own email and began typing.

0000

Dean couldn’t sleep for the life of him. No matter what, sleep just wouldn’t come. Staring up at the ceiling for a few quiet moments before turning onto his side and staring across the bed at his little brother who, for once, was still as he slept on, Dean attempted to close his eyes and try again when the familiar voice sounded in his ear and he cringed.

“You really think you can get away from me that easily, Dean?” 

Keeping his eyes closed and not turning around, as he knew just who-or what-was speaking to him, the older Winchester felt his heart racing as the voice continued.

“Trying to ignore me, spending more time with that abomination of a little brother, switching back to beer…Damn, Dean, you’re getting soft.” A chuckle sounded in Dean’s ear and he flinched as he listened to the voice get louder,  
“Or should I say, what the hell do you think you’re doing? You’re so selfish, Dean, allowing Sammy to be the one to take care of you…” The figure scoffed,  
“Be realistic, Dean; he doesn’t care about you. He’s only doing it because he feels like he HAS to-“

“Shut up,” Dean growled under his breath, but not turning around. Instead, he kept his eyes straight on his baby brother who was starting to toss and turn in his sleep. Pain contorted Sam’s features and Dean felt his heart clench as he took in how vulnerable and young his brother looked,  
“Just shut the hell up…” He flung back the covers of his bed without turning around, even as the “hallucination” continued to hiss at him, and moved over to Sam’s bed just in time to hear painful whimpers escaping his brother,  
“Sammy?” Reaching a hand out, Dean was just in the process of shaking Sam’s shoulder when his little brother’s hazel eyes flew open. Dean’s heart clenched and unclenched at the raw pain visible in his eyes,  
“Hey, hey, hey, it’s alright, kiddo…”

Squeezing his eyes shut from the physical pain coursing through his hands once again, Sam gritted his teeth and forced himself to not allow his tears to fall. He was silent for a few moments before he felt Dean’s hand landing on his arm and squeezing,  
“It’s okay, Sam…”

“It’s…n-not…o-kay…” Sam mumbled fearfully, turning his head so that he was looking straight into his big brother’s green eyes,  
“Hurts…”

“What hurts, Sam?”

Without saying the word, Sam moved his eyes down to his hands, silently telling his brother, and flinched again as he felt Dean’s hand move towards his right hand. 

Not missing the flinch, the older Winchester just nodded his head and moved to grab the bottle of painkillers sitting on the table in between the beds,  
“Let’s get you some of these then, huh?” Shaking two into his palm, Dean rose to his feet and hurried to the kitchen to grab a cap and fill it with water. Just as he was about to turn around, he had to force himself not to scream when the “Sam hallucination” appeared right before him, smirking. Choosing to ignore it-that’s exactly what it was, it wasn’t his brother-the older Winchester hurried back into the other room just as Sam was pushing himself up on the bed to sit up against the headboard,  
“Here we go, little brother…”

Lifting his shirt sleeve to wipe away the few tears that had just started to fall, Sam nodded his head and accepted the pills from his brother. His felt his face turn beat red as he silently allowed Dean to help him hold onto the glass the wash the medicine down. Thank God for painkillers…more importantly, thank God that Bobby had a large stash of them at his house! Taking shaky breaths as he started to hide his hands into the sleeves of his long-sleeved night shirt, Sam whispered,  
“Thanks…”

“Sam, you don’t have to hide your injuries from me,” Dean shook his head sadly,  
“I’m the one who saw them first hand when Bobby helped bandage them up, remember?” Seeing his brother still not moving to make eye contact, Dean continued,  
“Look at me, Sammy.”

Sam shook his head as he successfully maneuvered his hands into the sleeves of his shirt,  
“C-Can’t…let you…look at ‘em…”

“Look at ME, Sam,” Dean pushed, hesitating slightly before reaching out and grasping onto his brother’s upper arms,  
“Front and center, kiddo.”

With a slight roll of his eyes, Sam sighed quietly before lifting his head up to look into his brother’s own eyes,  
“What?”

“I know it’s embarrassing for you, Sam; believe me, I know,” He lifted his hand to stop Sam from interrupting,  
“You think I’m proud of the alcoholic I’ve become? And I did it by choice, Sam; you didn’t.”

“I did.”

His brow creasing, Dean shook his head in confusion,  
“What do you mean?”

“L-L-Lucifer’s…C-Cage…Dean…” Sam was growing more and more frustrated the longer he attempted to say his words clearly without stuttering,  
“I ch-chose…to j-jump, right?”

“Maybe so, Sam, but it’s not like you wanted that to happen,” Dean sighed softly as he squeezed his brother’s arms gently,  
“Do you remember much of what happened before you jumped, Sammy?” He waited as Sam’s brow furrowed in concentration for a few moments before he shook his head, eyes lowering.

“S-Some m-emories are m-m-missing…”

Nodding his head in understanding, Dean chose not to push it as he scooted closer and attempted to meet Sam’s eyes again underneath his bangs,  
“That’s okay, Sammy. What’s important is that you saved the world, but in return, you suffered horribly for it, little brother.” He watched as Sam flinched, attempting to pull away from him, but Dean’s grip tightened,  
“Nu-uh, no you don’t Sammy-“

“Hum-Humiliating…” Sam interrupted as he finally lifted his head, his bangs hanging in his hazel eyes,  
“It…It’s humiliating…”

Moving his hands from his brother’s arms, Dean gently reached for Sam’s hands even as he attempted to pull them away. Being as gentle as possible, the older Winchester finally got a hold of them and rolled the sleeves of Sam’s shirt up, revealing the damage done,  
“You listen to me, Sam, and listen well.”

Silence.

“Anybody who ever attempts to give you a hard time or makes fun of you because of something like this,” He nodded down at his little brother’s scarred hands,  
“They will receive a beating so severe, they’ll wish they had never been born, Sammy. You were damaged physically by the devil, Sam; you lost your voice because of Lucifer and yes, he took some stuff away from you. But you’re getting it back, Sammy. You’re getting it back because you’re stubborn that way. Do you remember before you took the swan dive?”

“K-Kinda.”

“You managed to beat the devil at his own game, Sammy,” Dean replied sincerely. There was no way he was going to bring up the horrible memories of Lucifer wearing Sam’s meat suit as he pummeled him to near death; Sam didn’t need to remember any of that at the moment, especially when he was in such pain,  
“You beat him because you were stubborn and determined. You still are, kiddo.”

“No…”

“Yes,” Dean nodded his head as he allowed his brother to take his hands away and tuck them back inside his shirt. Lifting his hands again, he moved them to cup Sam’s face to force him to look back at him,  
“Yes, you are. What do I have to say to make you believe that you’re a hero, Sam? You’re the person who saved this world and who has been saving his brother, the alcoholic, since then. You understand me, Sammy?”

All the while as Dean was speaking, the older Winchester was doing his damndest to ignore the lone figure that continued to stand beside him. But the longer he spoke, the longer he looked straight into Sam’s eyes as they talked, the quieter the voice became and when Dean finally spared a look to his side, the figure was gone.

Sam’s hazel eyes were on his older brother as he watched him let out a sigh of relief, his eyes having moved from him to a spot beside him. Starting to frown, Sam was just about to ask what it was that caught Dean’s attention when his memory of his brother admitting his hallucinations came crashing down on him.

Dean was seeing this…this THING again…Or was he?

“Dean…Y-You okay?” Sam waited until Dean closed his eyes tightly for a moment, his hands never leaving the sides of his brother’s face, before he opened them again and nodded his head a little jerkily. 

“Yeah, Sam, I’m alright.”

Wanting to make sure, Sam was silent for a few long moments, waiting to see if the hallucination would return and when it appeared that it wasn’t, the younger brother moved away from Dean’s grasp to wrap his trembling arms around his brother’s shoulders,  
“I-It’s gone?”

Dean was silent as he felt his brother embrace him and he forced down the guilt eating at him that Sam was the one choosing to comfort him when it should have been the other way around that night. He knew exactly what Sam was referring to; he knew that Sam could tell he was seeing those damn hallucinations again. It was tempting to play dumb, to pretend that he had no clue what his baby brother was talking about, but since the two had been choosing to be honest with each other, to not hide things from each other, Dean shoved down the guilt and nodded his head as he hugged his brother tightly in return,  
“Yeah. It’s gone, Sammy.”

0000

The last thing Sarah Blake expected that evening when she logged into her email was to see a message from Dean Winchester. It nearly took the young woman’s breath away and she found herself going from excited to scared all within a matter of a few seconds. Excited because she wasn’t expecting a reply back; Sam hadn’t replied back to her and she could only imagine what had happened to him. He just couldn’t be dead. It was just not possible. But the longer time went by that she didn’t hear back, the stronger that feeling got that she was right.

Until now.

Staring at Dean’s name in her inbox, almost afraid to click on the link, Sarah drew in a deep breath and let out. Here went nothing.

Sarah,  
It was such a surprise to hear from you. I hope you’re doing well, everything around here has been insanely crazy and I’m sorry you never heard back from Sam. I will tell you however, that Sammy is alive. He and I both just haven’t checked our emails in some time and right now, he’s unable to reply back, so I’m doing it for him-

As Sarah read through the message, her eyes caught the very bottom and saw that Dean had included his cell phone number. Her heart was pounding loudly in her chest as she imagined what kind of terrible things could have happened to Sam Winchester. He was alive; thank God for that. But was he okay? Dean didn’t say. He kept the message short, to the point, but also kind. A fear gripped her heart as she re-read the message, taking in every word, every sentence.

She was never planning on getting in contact with Sam and Dean Winchester, but ever since she had heard their names being mentioned that one day…Sam’s name being talked about in past tense, like he was dead…She knew right then and there that the two men who were talking had to be hunters like the Winchester brothers. Sarah had not meant to eavesdrop; that wasn’t her intention. But as soon as the older guy…what was the name the younger one called him, Walt maybe…as soon as Sam’s name was talked about, she knew for a fact that she had to know. One way or the other, she had to know.

And now she did. And Sam and Dean were both alive. 

With a quiet sigh, she closed her laptop, making plans to soon get a hold of Dean Winchester the following day. She cared about the two brothers so much, but she always had a soft spot in her heart for the younger Winchester and she just wanted him to know that he was thought of. That he had a friend who cared about him, and more importantly, a brother who loved him.

0000

TBC


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- My apologies for the wait on this, but I’ve been ill and I’m still not feeling up to par so whether my brain allows me to function properly…I guess we’ll see, won’t we? Also I’ve been getting some threats from a particular someone… *clears throat* You know who you are, you! Lol. So if I want some of HER chapter, I guess I better get going on mine, huh?

Chapter 19

“Sammy, I’m tellin’ you, if this goes south, it’s all on you,” Dean grumbled as he stood in front of the bathroom mirror in the cabin, taking in his reflection,  
“Remember that.”

With a roll of his eyes, Sam shook his head and leaned against the door jam of the bathroom, keeping a close eye on his brother,  
“You’re the one w-with the s-scissors…” He replied slowly, pronouncing every word as carefully as he could,  
“Not me.” He allowed a small smirk to appear on his face briefly as he met his brother’s eyes in the mirror,  
“It’s longer then mine…it n-needs to be cut, Dean…”

The older Winchester picked up the pair of scissors and stared at them for a moment before looking back up at his little brother,  
“Who would’ve thought we’d see the day for that, eh, Sam? You’ve always been the one with the girly hair, not me.”

“Shut up.”

A comfortable silence filled the air before Dean turned back around to look straight into his little brother’s hazel eyes,  
“Your speech is getting a lot better there, Sammy; what’dya say once we’re done here we attempt to get a hold of Sarah again? Bobby and I didn’t go out and get Skype hooked up on your laptop for nothing, you know?”

Sam lowered his head, his long hair covering half of his face as he once more hid his hands in the sleeves of his sweatshirt. It had been a long, hard month and a half, but one that he wouldn’t take back. Day in and day out, Dean had been drilling him, helping him with the flashcards, attempting to improve his speech until finally Sam was nearly there. True, his voice was a lot lower and he doesn’t sound exactly like he did before he jumped into Hell, but the words were coming out clearer…or at least that’s what Dean had told him. There was never a real logical explanation as to how the youngest Winchester had lost his ability to talk in the first place, but Sam always had that nagging feeling in the back of his brain that Lucifer had something to do with it. After all, he remembered quite vividly from his time in the Cage that due to his screaming, he had started to lose it down there…he just never assumed that if or when he managed to escape, he still would be unable to talk.

Just like the damage done to his hands.

When Lucifer had damaged them in that way…when the devil had gleefully taken that away from him…Sam had always wondered what would happen to them-to him-if he ever got out. That question had been answered the minute he appeared in Stull Cemetery, on his hands and knees on the wet ground. It had saddened the younger brother to no end that despite the fact that Dean had made this deal with an Archangel-a pretty nasty deal mind you-the douche bag had not even bothered to heal him in any way when he pulled him up from Hell. Not his voice, not his hands and especially not his memories.

“Sammy? Where’d you go?” 

Sam snapped his head up right then, coming out of his deep thoughts as he found himself once again looking at his brother. With a shake of his head, he forced a tentative smile back onto his face at the concerned look on Dean’s face,  
“I’m fine, Dean…”

“You sure, kiddo?” Dean frowned as he squeezed his little brother’s arm gently, all the while noticing how Sam was once again hiding his hands underneath his sweatshirt,  
“Sam, we’re eventually gonna have to really talk about that-“

“I’m fine,” Sam repeated with a nod of his head, knowing full well he was taking to hiding his hands from his big brother again. Ever since Dean had tried to talk to him about hiding them from him, Sam had tried to not feel as self-conscious; he really had. But it was just as bad as going out in public in this condition. Every now and then, he would agree to go with his brother and Bobby to a store, but he always kept his mouth shut, refusing to attempt to talk-just in case, he always told himself. The last thing he wanted was for strangers to stare at him, whisper at him…when none of them knew of the literal hell he and Dean had been through. He knew deep in his gut that even if he wasn’t feeling as horrible about himself as he was, and he was able to talk without stuttering, he didn’t think he would be able to defend himself anyways, much less his brother,  
“Dean, really…” He nodded down at the scissors,  
“Let’s get your hair dealt with, alright?” With a shaky breath, he tentatively pulled his hands out from under his shirt and clumsily reached forward to turn Dean back around to face the mirror,  
“And that b-beard has got to go as w-well…you’re starting to l-look like a m-mountain lion…”

Rolling his eyes, Dean was about to reply when he felt his hands starting to tremble as they held the scissors,  
“Sammy…?” At Sam’s questioning look, Dean nodded down to his own hands and then looked back up at his little brother,  
“You sure I can do this?” He gulped, an unknown fear churning deep in his gut. Was he physically able to do this without cutting himself? Due to the amount of alcohol he had consume on a daily basis, the shaking of his hands had not lessened, not at all. But he tried to not pay attention to it, especially when taking care of Sam had been top priority,  
“I mean…”

“I know you can do it,” Sam replied, taking a step closer and reaching his own trembling hands out and laying them on top of Dean’s. He looked straight into his brother’s green eyes and waited until some of Dean’s shaking had stopped,  
“I’m right b-behind you, I w-won’t let you cut yourself, Dean.”

It was nearly two hours later when Sam looked at his older brother in the mirror and smiled, nodding his head at the transformation that had taken place. Staring back at him was a clean-shaven Dean, a Dean who no longer looked like a wild cat with hair longer then his own. They were definitely getting somewhere.

0000

“Nothing?”

Dean took a seat beside is brother at the table and watched as Sam shook his head, leaving the laptop open.

“Not yet,” He replied, settling back in his chair and unscrewing a bottle of beer before looking back over at his brother,  
“That’s okay, though; I-I’m not sure if I’m r-ready for a face to face c-c-conversation yet…”

“You talking about your speech here, Sammy?” At Sam’s shrug, Dean frowned and continued,  
“Sam, do you even realize how much you’ve improved in just a month and a half?”

“Not enough, Dean,” The younger Winchester stubbornly replied with a shake of his head,  
“R-Remember the l-last time Sarah saw me?” At Dean’s nod, Sam went on,  
“So much has c-changed, Dean…I’m not sure if…”

“If she’ll accept you?” Dean arched an eyebrow,  
“Sam, we’re not talking about you marrying the girl!” He watched as Sam sent him the ultimate bitch face and he frowned in return,  
“Look, I know it’s been years, kiddo, but she reached out to you for a reason, remember? She thought you were dead. She reached out to you because she wanted to get back in contact with you as a friend. From what we saw of her all those years ago, I know-I KNOW-that she wouldn’t judge you because of that…or that,” He nodded down at his little brother’s hands which he had folded back in the sleeves of his sweatshirt,  
“Sammy-“

“No, Dean,” Sam interrupted.

“Why?” At Sam’s silence, Dean sighed and leaned further in his chair until his arms rested on the table,  
“Sam, it wasn’t your fault; what happened to your hands, what happened to me…none of it was your fault. We both made our choices and sure, the choice I made to drink myself into an oblivion was probably the dumbest move on the planet and I have to live with that, but it was still my choice-“

“I should’ve tried harder to stop Lucifer…”

“From possessing you? From torturing you in Hell? What should you have tried harder to do, Sam?”

“All of it,” Sam whispered, lowering his head and letting his long hair hang in his eyes,  
“There had to h-have been s-something I could’ve done…”

“There was nothing you could have done, Sam,” Dean softly replied, looking down at the table top as he spoke, twirling the bottle around in his hands,  
“You really think there was something else you could have done?” He arched an eyebrow and looked back up at his brother,  
“Sammy, what’s going on in that freaky head of yours?”

Letting out a huff, Sam lifted his head and frowned back up at his older brother,  
“Dean, if Sarah sees me this way…I’m g-going to have to tell her everything that h-happened…what a failure I was, what a chicken I was…I’m…”

“You’re what, little brother?”

“I’m t-t-terrified, Dean.” Dean stayed silent as allowed Sam to continue to say his piece,  
“Of…her reaction…of going out in p-public in general. The nightmares are still coming with no end in sight.” With a deep breath, he looked back up into his brother’s green eyes,  
“I-I don’t…”

“Sam,” Dean interrupted gently, taking a sip of the beer before pushing it off to the side and turning his chair around to face his brother head-on,  
“I need you to be completely honest with me here.” At Sam’s jerky nod, the older Winchester continued as he reached for the sleeves of his brother’s sweatshirt, not flinching even as Sam attempted to pull them away,  
“You had no problem showing me these in the bathroom earlier,” He nodded down at Sam’s hands as he finally managed to push the sleeves up on the shirt,  
“You know I won’t judge you, I won’t make fun of you and I won’t lie to you. So why are you hiding them from me?” He held up a hand as Sam attempted to interrupt,  
“I can understand going out in public, Sammy, and Sarah’s reaction; but nobody is here besides you and I. So tell me. Tell me the truth, brother.”

Sam blinked his hazel eyes rapidly, forcing himself to not release the tears that were threatening. He wasn’t going to cry again; he had been doing too much of that and Dean deserved to know his response without him falling apart,  
“I-I trust you, Dean…I just d-don’t trust anybody else besides you and Bobby. I did what I did in the bathroom b-because…because you needed me to, alright? You needed to keep yourself steady while you were doing that,” He nodded his head at Dean’s newly trimmed hair, which was almost the length it was before he went to Hell, and his clean shaven face,  
“So I did it. But now, I-I can’t show them like I did before Hell, Dean. Every single time I look at them myself, it b-brings back memories, the flashbacks, the nightmares…I d-dream about it constantly, Dean…what L-Lucifer did in the Cage…”

Sam shook his head, his hair swinging around his shoulders and he cringed at just the mere thought of bringing that topic up again. There was no way he could talk about that time in Hell; he just couldn’t. He knew that Dean would understand for the most part, as his big brother had been to Hell himself, but was never in the Cage with Lucifer and Michael as his only companion. So how in the hell was he supposed to describe the torture and terror that occurred there?

“Go on, buddy.” Sam lifted his head slightly as he felt Dean’s hands move to his upper arms and squeeze.

“I d-don’t know how to go about a regular l-life anymore, Dean,” Sam whispered brokenly, finally meeting Dean’s concerned gaze,  
“I know you told me that my v-voice is g-getting better…I believe you, but all I see is how different it s-s-sounds and I’m stuttering…it’s just not the same, Dean…”

“You wanta know what I think about that, Sammy?” Dean almost flinched at the scared look on his little brother’s face but chose to smile instead as he squeezed Sam’s arms,  
“I see my little brother who went to Hell to save mankind. I see my little brother, whole and complete. I don’t see a failure, I don’t see anybody different. I see my brother and that’s all I care about.” The older Winchester bit his lip as he saw a few tears form in Sam’s hazel eyes,  
“Believe in that, okay? Take hold of that. Who gives two shits what anybody who doesn’t know you think? Whose opinion matters most, Sam?”

“Yours.”

“Damn straight,” Dean nodded his head, sadness filling his heart as he watched a lone tear snake down Sam’s cheek,  
“And that won’t change.” Knowing that Sam wanted to end this discussion as quickly as possible, the older brother reached forward and laid his hand on the back of Sam’s neck, drawing him in close. Wrapping his other arm around his brother’s shoulders, Dean squeezed gently and whispered into Sam’s ear,  
“I promise.”

0000

“I think it would be a good idea, you idjit,” Bobby folded his arms over his chest and pinned Dean with a hard look as they sat at the table in the small cabin. The gruff hunter watched as Dean twirled the cap bottle of his beer around in his hands before shooting a look over his friend’s shoulder at Sam, who was still sound asleep in the nearby bed,  
“Sam finally got you into cutting that hair of yours and shaving and you’re looking a hell of a lot better. Besides, as I told you, the manager is somebody who I know quite well…and he’s a hunter, Dean, so it’s not like you’ll be going into this blind.”

“But seriously, Bobby, a job?” Dean arched an eyebrow before taking a swig from the bottle,  
“And what about Sammy, he’s still healing-“

“It’s not full-time, Dean, and that’s why I’m here,” Bobby interrupted heatedly but made sure he kept his voice tone as he watched Sam roll over to his other side,  
“He won’t be alone, I swear.”

Dean shook his head in confusion as he rose to his feet and started pacing, causing Bobby to roll his eyes with impatience clearly written on his face,  
“Dean, you’ve been doing so much better and I wish you could see that…and this job is at a liquor store. I really think this opportunity would help you even more with this whole drinking thing you got yourself stuck into.”

“This ‘drinking thing’ I got myself into, Bobby, I did for Sam,” The older Winchester grumbled, turning around to pin Bobby with a glare,  
“You know that-“

“Yes, I do, and you’re doing better,” The older hunter interrupted as he rose to his feet as well,  
“But your self-confidence needs some work, boy. Yours and Sam’s. Sam’s working on his and I think if you at least gave this a chance, you’d be surprised.”

Turning around to look long and hard at his baby brother who had was sleeping soundly in the next room, Dean sighed softly,  
“What’d Sammy have to say about it?”

“He’s all for it, Dean,” Bobby’s voice grew softer as he reached out to lay a hand on Dean’s shoulder, feeling the slight tension in it,  
“I talked with him about it the other day while you were in the show. I wasn’t going to bring it up until I heard what he thought and he thinks it’s a great idea.”

Dean opened his mouth and was about to reply when the familiar ringing of his cell phone interrupted him. Grumbling under his breath and shooting a quick look over at his brother in time to see him sitting straight up in bed, Dean quickly reached for his cell which was lying on the kitchen table and looked at the caller ID. Not recognizing the number, he picked it up anyways, his eyes still on Sam.

“Hello?”

“Is this Dean Winchester?”

Eyebrows rising up to his forehead, Dean shot a look over at Bobby and then at Sam, who was staring at him expectantly,  
“Sarah?”

0000

TBC


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Sam’s eyebrows rose up a notch as he listened to his brother answering the phone and the familiar name being spoken. Sarah was on the other end of the line? The younger Winchester gulped and pushed the covers back on his bed, but remained seated where he was, his large hazel eyes never leaving Dean. He waited as he met his big brother’s eyes with his own and shook his head.

He had to admit, it would be such a nice moment to talk with Sarah Blake, to hear her voice again. It had been far too long. But what would she think of him, of all of his never-ending problems and even the way his voice sounded? More likely then not, she would be asking questions and he knew he couldn’t lie to her; Sarah wasn’t the type of woman that stood by and allowed that to happen.

“Sammy?”

Sam watched as his brother stepped closer to him, cell phone in hand and took a seat beside him on the bed,  
“Sam. Are you sure?”

“I-I c-c-can’t…” He stuttered in reply, silently cursing himself for the stuttering returning. It usually happened the most when he was nervous and he wasn’t going to lie to himself; he was nervous as hell and he just knew that if he talked with her on the phone, he would be stuttering into her ear,  
“Dean…no…”

Resting a gentle hand on Sam’s shoulder, which had started trembling slightly, Dean frowned and put the phone back up to his ear,  
“Now’s probably not a good time, Sarah…” He waited as she spoke in his ear and the older Winchester nodded with a small smile,  
“No, it’s alright, you didn’t do anything wrong. Sam’s just…been through the meat grinder so to speak…” Dean’s eyes never left his brother’s face as he spoke and then sighed,  
“I’ll give him your number though, that way when he can give you a call when things are better around here. Yes, of course I will. It was good to hear from you, too. Bye.”

Sam’s bangs hung in his eyes as he lowered his head to stare at his hands, guilt slowly eating at him as he listened to Dean hang up the phone,  
“I’m s-sorry, Dean-“

“You’re not ready, Sam, I understand and Sarah understands as well,” Dean replied gently, his hand never leaving his little brother’s shoulder,  
“She just wanted you to know she’s thinking of you; she cares an awful lot, Sammy, just like she did all those years ago, if not more…She really did think that you had died, kiddo-“

“I did.”

“But you’re alive now,” Dean continued, attempting to push that memory of his brother jumping into Hell out of his mind; that was not a place he wanted to revisit any time soon and he knew for certain Sam didn’t either,  
“You’re alive and you’re healing. And Sarah agreed to give you some time and that it’s nothing against her.” He reached his other hand out and accepted the bottle of beer that Bobby handed to him,  
“You okay?”

“I’m a-alright,” Sam nodded, silently tucking his hands underneath his sweater but stopped when he felt Dean’s hand move to his arm.

“Remember what we talked about regarding that, Sammy?” Dean raised an eyebrow as he moved his hand to stop his brother,  
“No hiding in front of me.”

Getting the feeling that he was intruding on the brothers, as this was a private moment that needed to be discussed without him in the room, Bobby cleared his throat and motioned towards the door of the cabin,  
“I’m gonna give you two boys some space. You know where I am if you need anything, alright?” The older hunter walked over to both Winchesters and squeezed each of their shoulders in turn,  
“And don’t forget about that job we discussed, Dean.” Without giving either brother a chance to reply, Bobby turned back around and walked to the door, closing it behind him as he left.

“Sam,” Dean turned back to his brother, taking a long sip out of the bottle until it was empty. His hand still on Sam’s arm, he maneuvered until he was sitting face to face with him,  
“Do your hands still hurt?”

Shooting a classic bitch at his brother and tensing up, the younger Winchester attempted to shake his head until he was met with a stern look from Dean in return,  
“No lying here, Sammy. Do your hands still hurt?” Dean waited patiently as Sam pushed more hair out of his eyes and looked up at him briefly before lowering his head again,  
“I’m not getting any younger here, Sam. Talk to me here and answer the question.”

“W-What if they did?” Sam quietly asked, refusing to look back up at his brother, his eyes looking down at his severely damaged hands,  
“There’s nothing that can b-be done ab-bout it, Dean…”

“So I’ll take that as a yes then?” Dean lowered his voice slightly as he reached over and took his brother’s hands in his own, holding them with as much gentleness as he was capable of,  
“Why didn’t you say anything about it? How long have they been hurting you, little brother?”

“The entire t-time…” Sam whispered back, his face flushing bright red as he spoke,  
“It’s okay though, Dean-“

“Like hell it’s okay, Sam,” Dean interrupted, trying with everything in him to not yell at his brother, who was embarrassed and ashamed enough as it was,  
“Bobby and I should have taken you to a doctor from the start-“

“No,” Sam interrupted, pulling his hands away from his older brother,  
“No doctors…they can’t do anything for me, Dean, you know that!”

“They could give you something for the pain, Sam, that’s what they could do!” Dean snapped, pulling Sam’s hands back closer to him for inspection,  
“All this time, Sammy-“

“I’m scared of what they could find out regarding it, okay, Dean?” Sam choked out, his fear taking a hold of him and showing plainly all over his face,  
“I-I’m scared they m-m-might have to be amputated. I’m scared of what they’ll tell me. On top of that, how c-c-could I p-possibly explain to them how it happened? We can’t, Dean-“

“Sam, is this why you’re so scared of letting me see them?” Dean cut in, his eyebrows furrowing together as he spoke,  
“That you’re worried you’ll eventually have to have them amputated and you’re scared of what I’ll think? What Bobby and Sarah will think? Is that it?” 

Silence.

“Sammy-“

“No, Dean,” Sam allowed a few tears to build up in his eyes but he didn’t allow them to fall. Not this time,  
“I can’t l-let ‘em do it…”

“Sam. Sam. SAM!” Dean barked, moving his hands to grab a hold of Sam’s shoulders as his brother continued rambling and refused to look at him. The older Winchester gave his brother a slight shake and waited until he faced him again before pinning him with a hard look,  
“You listen to me here, okay, little brother? If that ended up happening, it wouldn’t make a difference to me. If that happened, it wouldn’t change how Bobby, Sarah or myself would see you. It wouldn’t change the fact that you’re still Sam! Okay?” He gave Sam another small shake before he moved his hands back down to Sam’s and gently lifted them up so,  
“These right here don’t make who you are, kid? When will you see that?”

Sam’s voice was shaky as he replied,  
“I-I might see it…when you see that you drinking doesn’t make who you are, Dean…”

“What?”

“You don’t have any control over it, Dean-“

“And neither do you,” Dean broke in, his own voice cracking with each word spoken,  
“Do you really think you had control in Hell, Sammy? That there was anything you could have done to stop this from happening? That it was your fault? Because I can tell you this right now, it’s NOT. YOUR. FAULT. And whether I have control of this drinking or not, Sam, I can tell you that I could’ve stopped it from happening before it even started and I’m taking the rap for it. You on the other hand…”

“Don’t say that.”

“Why not?” Dean demanded,  
“What will it take, Sammy? What will it take for you to see the truth?” He pinned his little brother with a sharp look,  
“What?”

Silence filled the cabin before Sam finally met Dean’s eyes and allowed the few tears to fall down his cheeks,  
“I want to…I want to see it…I d-don’t w-want the nightmares to continue, Dean…”

“Then see it right now.” With his eyes fixed on his little brother’s pained face, Dean moved Sam’s hand and rested it on his own chest, just above his heart,  
“Feel that, Sammy?” At Sam’s nod, Dean grinned shakily,  
“That right there, that’s real. Okay?” The older brother pushed back his own tears that wanted so desperately to fall but he refused to show anything but strength in front of his baby brother right now. No weakness was allowed here,  
“That right there…that’s your big brother. Your big brother that…” He stopped short just before he said those three little words, but with just one look into Sam’s huge puppy dog eyes, Dean bit his lip and continued somewhat shakily,  
“Your big brother that loves you. Alright?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Dean knew that the hallucination that had been coming and going less and less as the days went was standing right off to the side, but as he pressed Sam’s few remaining fingers closer to his heart, the figure flickered and disappeared from sight. Without another word, the older brother squeezed Sam’s hand carefully before pulling him tightly into his arms and just held on.

“I love you, too…” Sam whispered into his brother’s chest as he returned the hug, feeling more tears falling from his eyes at those words Dean had spoken…words that were never used between them because they were never necessary. Until now. Burying his face into his big brother’s shirt, he clung tightly to Dean and allowed the comfortable silence to fill the air.

Nothing more was spoken between them. But then again, it wasn’t needed.

0000

The following week went by slowly and with a few more gentle urges from both Sam and Bobby, Dean finally gave in and went with the older, gruff hunter’s suggestion to go in for that interview at that liquor store. After what had happened on Sam’s bed right after Sarah’s phone call that past week, when Sam had confessed to just how much his damaged hands were still hurting, Dean had pretty much forced his little brother to start taking the pain killers. If Sam stubbornly refused to visit a doctor, then two could play this game…and Dean never backed down until he saw with his own two eyes as Sam’s took the pills.

As Dean had stood in front of Sam, who had shot him bitch face after bitch face, he had shot him a grin of his own before patting him on the shoulder with a “That’s my boy” coming out of his mouth before he could stop it.

Although things were slowly starting to look up after that, the older Winchester couldn’t deny the fact that he was still nervous leaving Sam behind, even with Bobby, for this interview. It had taken a lot of pushing and prodding to get the older brother even out the door and although the store was a safe walking distance from Bobby’s, Dean’s heart still felt heavy at just the thought of something happening to his little brother while he wasn’t there. Even though Bobby was their most trusted father figure, he still wasn’t Dean; and that alone caused his nerves to jumble off as he took the short walk.

Now, barely two hours later as Dean walked out of the store, a part time job secured safely under his belt and the promise from the store manager that he would be able to get free bottles of beer with his condition, Dean suddenly felt a lightness in his step as he walked out onto the sidewalk and allowed a real smile to appear on his face.

As the older Winchester continued walking down the sidewalk on his way back to Bobby’s place, his eyes fell on a beautiful brunette walking towards him and for the first time in almost two years, Dean suddenly realized he had almost forgotten what it was like to see a pretty girl and flirt his way to her, get her number and everything else he had so easily done years ago. 

Until Sam had gone to Hell and shit hit the fan.

Dean was about to move his green eyes away from the woman when he saw her head turn in his direction and a smile crossed her face as she stopped in her tracks, her brown eyes moving up and down, looking at him from head to toe. The older Winchester smiled slightly back and felt a tingle go up his spine as the woman reached a hand out and ran it up and down his arm with a grin.

“We don’t see fellows like you around here all too often, handsome,” She replied as she continued walking past him, the smile still on her face. With a quick wink, she then turned back around and continued on down the sidewalk.

A feeling Dean hadn’t feel in too long went through the older Winchester and he felt his cheeks turn a slight pink. What the hell? When was the last time he had ever been stopped in public by some hot chick? Hell, it had to have been long before his drinking had gotten out of control, before Sam had died…Dean slowly began to remember how he had let everything get out of control, not just with his drinking, but with his appearance as well.

Did he really appear that much better? He knew that Sam had urged him to get his hair cut and shave; hell, even with his shaking hands, he had managed to do it himself. But at the same time, Dean hadn’t paid much attention to his appearance as he had done it. 

Unable to contain his curiosity as he got closer to the cabin and Singer Salvage, Dean spotted a 24-hour take-out restaurant and without a second thought, walked through the door and towards the nearby men’s room. Closing and locking it, Dean walked to the closest mirror and took a good look at his appearance-a real good look-for the first time in a long time.

Damn.

It really had been a long time. 

The older Winchester brother’s hair was now the same length it had been at almost 2 years ago. His face was clean shaven, no stubble in site. And he was dressed in clean clothes that Sam and Bobby had both helped him pick out for this interview. It was like a totally different person was staring back at him, a person he didn’t recognize. He allowed a tentative smile to grace his features as he took in his reflection and felt his heart beat rapidly as he realized something else, too.

Something was missing. 

Glancing over his shoulder, double-checking to make sure he wasn’t going crazy, Dean let out a long breath and nodded his head.

The hallucinations weren’t there. They weren’t whispering things to him, taking him down little by little. 

Dean didn’t know whether or not they were gone for good-most likely not. But this time…this time, when he needed it the most, when his self-confidence needed that strong boost…when he needed to know that he actually was worth something more then just some alcoholic who had made a drinking deal with a duchbag Archangel…that feeling was given to him. That feeling of that woman’s hand coming to rest on his arm and her eyes sparkling as they looked him up and down in admiration. That had to have meant something, right? Sam had told him before he left that he had looked great, that he looked better then he had in months. And this…this had to have been proof that his little brother was right. No woman would have stopped in the middle of the sidewalk to look at him that way if it wasn’t true.

Dean’s smile slowly widened as he continued to look at himself in the bathroom mirror. This feeling he was getting…He had missed this feeling. He didn’t know how long this feeling would last, but right now, it was there.

0000

Sam sat in Bobby’s kitchen, his eyes watching the older man disappear through the door and back into the library, cell phone pressed up to his ear as the phone rang on the other end. He couldn’t believe he was actually doing this; just a week ago, he had refused a call from Sarah Blake due to everything that had happened, his stuttering problems and his fear of what she would think of him now.

She deserved to hear from him though, he had told himself. She was the one who had reached out to him, scared and wondering if he was alive and well. He didn’t know what specific rumors she had heard or who she had heard it from-hunters maybe-but she deserved to know the truth and to hear his voice on the other end of the line, despite how different he sounded. 

Sam’s heart pounded loudly in his chest as he listened to the phone continue ringing and was about to hang up and try again later when he heard the unmistakable sound of it being picked up and a familiar voice.

“Hello?”

Sam was silent for a few moments; he was almost sure his heart was going to pound out of his chest with anxiety and fear. 

“Is anybody there?”

Gulping, Sam drew in a trembling breath, hoping his voice would cooperate this time around,  
“Is this…Sarah?”

Silence greeted the younger Winchester and Sam closed his hazel eyes tightly, criging at the sound of his changed voice. He bit his lip hard and waited until he heard that same voice speak in his ear.

“Sam?”

“Yeah…” He replied back quietly, keeping his eyes closed as he leaned back in his chair,  
“H-Hey Sarah…”

“Sam, that’s really you there,” Sarah’s smile was visible even through the phone and Sam slowly felt his heart rate slow down as she spoke,  
“It’s good to hear from you.”

0000

TBC


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- I’m sorry for the wait on this chapter, but I really wanted to get my most recent one-shot story out before I did this one. For those who haven’t read it yet, please take the time if you want to read and review “Words Not Spoken”. Hope you enjoy this chapter!

Chapter 21

“It’s been a long time, Sam.”

Sam closed his hazel eyes as he held his cell phone in between his ear and his shoulder and nodded his head, even though he knew Sarah couldn’t see it,  
“Yeah…”

“How are you doing?” Sarah’s voice was gentle and soft, just like it was all those years ago when Sam had last seen her. An awkward silence passed in between the two, the younger Winchester unsure of how to answer that particular question,  
“Are you okay?”

“I-I’m alright, Sarah,” Sam replied quietly, his heart hammering in his chest once again. When he first decided to make this call, to finally talk with her, Sam knew he would have to be completely honest with her; Sarah never took any crap from him and she always knew when he wasn’t telling the truth. Now wouldn’t be any different, would it?

“No you’re not,” Sarah replied and Sam could just imagine the look on her face as she said those words,  
“I can tell you’re not…” 

Silence.

“Listen, Sam, I know we haven’t seen one another in years, but you can tell me anything,” Sarah continued as gently as possible, not wanting to scare him away, but also able to tell that he needed a friend right no,  
“Anything at all.”

Sam lowered his head to the table that he had taken to leaning against and went over her words in his mind. Sarah was willing to listen to everything he had to say; she had never judged in before, not even after he had confided in her about his life, how death seemed to follow him everywhere he went. She didn’t even push him away when he told her that he thought he was cursed. And she was lending a listening ear now…now when he was more broken then he was back then. Now when he had literally been to Hell and back with life-changing effects…

“Sam?” Sarah’s voice spoke in his ear, causing the younger Winchester to shift and lift his head,  
“You’re awfully quiet. Look, the last thing I want to do is stick my nose in where it doesn’t belong and if you want me to mind my own business, I will, Sam, but-“

“I’ve been to Hell, S-Sarah…” Sam finally blurted out, blinking his eyes rapidly to hold back the few tears that were threatening,  
“I w-was in Hell for a year and a half our time…”

If there was one thing Sarah was expecting to hear from him, if there was one thing she expected to be told…it was not this. Never this. Hell? As in the devil himself and Hell? The younger woman felt her heart palpitating and she blinked her eyes to hide any tears that were trying to make themselves known. She would not break down. Not in front of Sam. He needed her to remain strong for him,  
“Oh my God, Sam…”

“I know it’s hard t-to believe, S-S-Sarah-“

“No, Sam,” Sarah gently interrupted, lifting a hand and wiping away the tears that stubbornly started to fall,  
“I believe you, I do. And it’s not your fault, alright? So don’t even allow yourself to think that.” She was greeted with a silence, but she would have sworn she heard the sound of a quiet sob on the other end of the line,  
“Sam, where are you right now?”

“What?” Sam lifted his head again, eyebrows furrowing together.

“This kind of conversation shouldn’t be done over the phone, my friend,” Sarah hoped with everything in her that Sam wouldn’t shut her out now; he desperately needed a friend and although Dean was there, thank God, he also needed a friend’s listening ear, despite what he may think,  
“I will come to you. I would like to see you, Sam…please.”

“Sarah-“

“If you think I’m going to judge you in any way, shape or form, it’s not true,” She interrupted in as gentle a voice as possible, feeling like she treading on thin ice at the moment. Any time, Sam could just hang up on her and never call her back; she had to be extremely careful with this,  
“You know that, Sam.”

Sam closed his hazel eyes again and nodded his head silently before replying,  
“I-I know…”

“Where are you?”

0000

Dean couldn’t remember the last time he felt this good; he couldn’t remember the last time he allowed himself to finally smile…a real smile, one that told him that he was going to be okay. It was almost foreign to the older Winchester, but at the same time, it was one he welcomed with open arms. The last thing he had expected on his walk him from that interview was to have some hot chick flirting with him. He knew that she wouldn’t have done that if he didn’t look good.

And there was no denying it anymore. He DID look good. Self-righteousness be damned, he enjoyed feeling that good!

His leg was starting to hurt a little, even with the brace that he was still wearing, but Dean ignored the little bit of pain as he neared Bobby’s. His leg was not used to something like this, walking to and from a store; he would have to get used to it, especially since he couldn’t drive the Impala while he was constantly drinking.

As he walked into Singer Salvage and got closer to the older hunter’s home, he couldn’t wait to tell Sam about everything that had happened. He couldn’t wait to see his little brother’s face light up and smile at him. He couldn’t wait to tell him and Bobby that he had been hired and for the first time in too long, he could honestly say that he felt good. As Bobby’s house came into view, Dean smiled to himself as he saw his brother and Bobby sitting on the front porch, talking and even from a distance, the older Winchester could see the worry and fear on Sam’s face.

Before Dean could open his mouth as he neared them, however, he watched as Bobby rose to his feet and smiled over at him,  
“How’d it go?”

Raising an eyebrow in the older hunter’s direction, Dean smirked back,  
“I take it you already know, Bobby?”

“Yeah, I do; so how’d it go already?” Bobby demanded, crossing his arms in front of him.

Grinning over at Sam as he stepped forward, his large hazel eyes wide, Dean spread his arms out in front of him and grinned,  
“I got the job, Sammy.”

A smile spreading a mile wide over his face, Sam allowed his fear of meeting up with Sarah in a few days vanish as he stepped closer and wrapped his arms around his big brother tightly,  
“I knew y-you’d get it, Dean.” Squeezing Dean tightly for a moment, Sam then pulled away and met his brother’s eyes,  
“They would’ve b-been a fool not to hire you.”

“I think this calls for a little celebration, don’t you, boys?” Bobby arched an eyebrow at each of his beloved idjits,   
“Things seem to have been going quite well with both of you boys,” Here, he turned his gaze to the youngest Winchester and his eyes grew serious,  
“What’dya think, Sam?”

Silent fear for going out in public and exposing himself to ridicule flooded Sam’s being, but he shoved it down as deep as it would go. He would be going out in public in a few days, so he might as well take the first step right now, get his feet wet so to speak. Plus, Dean deserved this. He couldn’t remember the last time he had seen such pride on his older brother’s face and if Dean could take that step, so could he. His heart hammered loudly in his chest as he forced the smile back on his face as he turned to face Bobby and then Dean, who’s own smile had faded and worry had taken its place,  
“Let’s do it.”

“Are you sure, Sammy?” Dean piped up, his eyes never leaving his baby brother,  
“Because we don’t have to if you’re not ready-“

“Have to do it sometime, r-right?” Sam’s smile was shaky as he turned to face Bobby again,  
“I’ll be fine, Bobby.”

Although still a little concerned about Sam’s state and the way he was still trembling, Bobby nodded his head and smiled back at his friend. The boy had to start somewhere,  
“All right then,” He reached over and gently squeezed Sam’s upper arm,  
“You’re gonna do great, son.” Turning back to Dean, he added,  
“Just lemme finish some stuff up in the house and we can be outta here in about 20 minutes.”

As their family friend walked back into the house, leaving the door open partway, Dean turned back to his little brother in concern,  
“Sammy-“

“I’m m-meeting up with Sarah in a few days, Dean,” Sam interrupted, stepping back to the front porch and grabbing a bottle of beer out of the cooler, handing it to his brother,  
“I have to start somewhere…”

“Sarah Sarah?” Dean grinned mischievously as he accepted the bottle from Sam,  
“You two are finally meeting up, Sam?”

“I called her while you were gone,” The younger brother smiled slightly as his face turned a bright shade of pink,  
“It was good to hear f-from here again, Dean…”

“I told you she wouldn’t judge you, little brother,” Dean turned serious as he saw the fear return to his little brother’s eyes,  
“What’d you tell her?”

“She-“ Before Sam could finish his sentence however, a loud, obnoxious voice sounded from the entrance of Singer Salvage and both brothers nearly jumped in surprise.

“See, I told you it was the town drunk!”

“What the hell?” Dean growled as two teenage boys who looked to be no older then 16 or 17 crossed into Bobby’s yard. Clenching his beer in his hand, all the while feeling both of his hands starting to shake, Dean stood in front of his little brother as the two boys came even closer,  
“Goddamnit, when did I stop paying attention if I was being followed…?”

Sam frowned in concern,  
“What are you talking about?”

Shaking his head as anger towards himself crept into his heart, Dean narrowed his eyes at the two boys as they got closer to hearing range,  
“Walking home, Sam; I wasn’t even paying any attention to what was going on around me-“

“It is him!” The tallest of the two ribbed his friend and shook his head,  
“Oh my God, I never thought I would actually see that drunken idiot again…”

“I told you, Billy!” The shorter of the two smirked as they neared the brothers,  
“It’s that drunk who barged into my dad’s convenience store that one day, remember, and was so drunk, he nearly fell over!”

“Who the hell are you boys?” Dean finally spoke up, folding his arms across his chest as he finally came face to face with these two idiots,  
“This is private property-“

“I don’t see a sign,” The taller of the two-Billy-interrupted as he looked in between Sam and Dean,  
“It’s a free country-“

“What the hell are you doing on my friend’s property, I probably should ask then?” Dean snapped back, still attempting to shield his brother from view even though he could tell that his Sam was starting to stiffen up and was starting to tremble,  
“You might want to get off-“

“My God, I never thought I’d see the day when he could make two sentences without stuttering!” Billy snorted as he ribbed his friend beside him and they both tilted their heads back laughing,  
“Or falling over!” Turning to his friend beside him, he smirked as he nodded over at Sam,  
“That your boyfriend?”

“His B-BROTHER,” Sam finally spoke up, unable to take hearing Dean getting trashed in front of these two morons.

“B-B-B-Brother?” Billy mocked, stepping closer just as Sam stepped out from behind Dean,  
“Oh you p-p-p-poor little st-st-st-stutterer!” 

“We don’t want any problems, so t-take your f-friend here and get outta here,” Sam attempted to ignore the ridicule that was being hurled in his direction. Feeling his brother’s hand on his arm and taking strength from Dean’s touch, Sam glared angrily at the two teenagers,  
“W-We’re warning you-“

“YOU are warning US?” Billy snorted again, lowering his head and seeing the younger Winchester’s damaged hands,  
“With those hands of yours? Hey Johnny, do you really think this cripple here could do any damage to US?”

His face turning red with fury, Dean stepped forward and attempted to shield his brother again as he saw the tears threatening his eyes,  
“This is your final warning, you idiots-“ Before Dean had time to even continue speaking however, he felt a sharp pain going up and down as his leg as he felt himself being kicked in the knee. Gasping for breath, Dean was unable to hold himself upright anymore and he felt himself falling to the gravel,  
“Sonuvabitch!”

All feelings of inadequacy and self-consciousness flying out the window as he witnessed Billy kicking his brother right in bad leg, Sam balled his hand up in a fist and although his hand was screaming in pain, he threw a punch right into the teenager’s jaw, causing him to stumble backwards,  
“That’s for m-messing w-with my brother! If you E-EVER-“ Before he had time to get into Johnny’s face next, he felt another sharp pain going through his hands as Johnny grabbed a hold of them and squeezed them tightly. A loud cry escaped Sam’s lips, the pain jolting through him like wildfire.

“Sammy!” Dean shouted as he clutched his bad leg, biting his lip as pain flowed through him all over again,  
“Get away from him, you sick son of a bitch!”

“That’s for hitting him, you freak!” Johnny’s face took on a look of complete and utter hatred just as Billy got a hold of himself and turned towards Dean, who was attempting to pull himself back up,  
“Kick him again, Billy!” He grinned from ear to ear as Billy laid one more kick to Dean’s bad leg and smiled broadly at the cry that escaped. Turning back to Sam, he tightened his grip on the younger brother’s hands, digging his nails into them until he saw blood form,  
“Aw, is the poor cripple in pain?” He smirked as he saw the tears forming in Sam’s eyes and rolling down his cheeks,  
“Do you want me to stop?”

“G-Get away from my brother, you son of a bitch!” Sam shouted through his own pain, ignoring the tears as he looked down at his brother,  
“I’ll kill you, I swear to God I’ll kill you-“ He was cut off as he felt the hands holding his own damaged hands tighten and just when he thought it couldn’t get anymore painful, he felt Johnny twist his right hand hard and he screamed as he felt bones break.

Dean gasped in agony as he felt the next kick come to his leg and he shook his head just as he saw the familiar figure appear right in front of him, standing right behind Johnny and Billy, arms folded and a look of mock sympathy on his face,  
“I’m telling you, Dean, this all goes back to you. Am I right? None of this would have happened if you had just ended it like I told you to. If you had just put a bullet into your brain and then one into your brother’s. Neither of you would be dealing with these two punks if you had just listened to me,” The hallucination rolled its eyes and shook his head again,  
“You never learn, do you?”

“No…no…” Dean closed his eyes, mumbling to himself, his anger taking a hold of him and not letting go. Making sure to keep his voice low, he mumbled once again, never once opening his eyes,  
“No…I did learn my lesson…I did. This isn’t real, you’re not real…”

“What if I am real?”

“You’re not,” Dean hissed back, opening his eyes just in time to see Billy and Johnny send his brother to the ground next to him, who was now holding his right arm tightly to his body. Meeting the hallucination right in the eye, Dean glared angrily and shouted,  
“GO AWAY!” 

As the hallucination flickered for a few moments and died, Dean pushed himself up painfully, his eyes now turning to his monsters who had just dared to hurt his brother. Pushing aside the long lost memory of when he and Sam had been fit enough and able to take on situations like this; back when they were hunters and a normal day was salting and burning a corpse. That was then. This was now. They were weaker, true; but at the same time, they were still strong in their own way and right now, Dean was pissed and when he was pissed, watch out,  
“You are so dead…”

“I’d say you are.”

Before Dean had time to even get a full standing position, the next thing he heard was the sound of a gun cocking and he lifted his head to see Bobby standing right beside them, his shotgun pointed directly at the two teenagers threateningly,  
“Bobby…thank God…”

Glancing in between his two favorite idjits, Bobby moved the shotgun from Billy to Johnny and back, satisfaction flowing through him as he finally saw fear on their faces,  
“That’s right. Step away from them right now or so help me God, I will put a bullet through each of your heads.”

0000

TBC


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

“Well, that was fun…”

Sam’s face was still slightly red with anger and even embarrassment as Bobby helped him and Dean through the door of their cabin later that night, fresh from a nice, long trip to the hospital…and more banged up then they had been early that afternoon. How had it come to this? Bobby had been planning on taking the two brothers out for a celebration, to celebrate Dean, and then this happened.

Ignoring his older brother’s growl as they slowly made their way into the cabin, as he knew that Dean was still pissed at Sam’s stubbornness at the hospital and his refusal to do what the doctor had ordered, Sam instead took a seat on his bed and turned his head up in time to see Bobby take Dean’s crutches from him and pushed him down on beside his little brother. 

“Now you boys listen up here,” Bobby piped up, folding his arms across his chest and staring them down,  
“Sam, you listen to what your brother tells you to do and under no circumstances are you to take that arm out of that sling unless you’re getting dressed or showering, of course,” He frowned as he saw Sam open his mouth to object and held his hand up,  
“I don’t wanta hear it, boy.”

“Bobby-“

“Don’t ‘Bobby’ me, you idjit,” The older hunter interrupted, staring straight into the younger Winchester’s angry eyes,  
“You got discharged AMA today, boy…You know what that means, right? Against medical advice?”

“I know, Bobby,” Sam mumbled under his breath as he lowered his head and stared at the clean white cast covering nearly his entire hand and went all the way up to his elbow. The broken arm was held in a navy blue sling and all Sam wanted to do was just chuck it across the room, but with both his brother and Bobby staring him down like that…that was out of the question.

“The doctor wanted your hands amputated, Sam,” Bobby continued, his voice filled with sadness as he talked,  
“It’s that bad…and you damn well know it, boy.” Ignoring the bitch face aimed at him, the family friend then turned to Dean, whose eyes were still on his little brother,  
“As for you-“

“I know, I know, stay off the leg for a week, let the swelling go down and let the bruises fade. We’ve been over this, Bobby,” Dean lifted his green eyes to look up at their friend and with a sigh, allowed his face to turn serious when he saw Bobby’s glare,  
“I promise, Bobby…”

“Alright then,” The gruff hunter nodded,  
“I’ll give your new manager a call and let him know what happened-“

“He’ll probably fire me before I even started,” Dean growled again, laying a hand on his throbbing knee and wincing slightly. The brace was no longer there; Bobby had taken it for the time being, allowing his bad leg to heal properly,  
“Of all the shitty-“

“He won’t fire you, you moron,” Bobby interrupted with a roll of his eyes,  
“In case you forgot, he happens to be a good friend of mine. Your job will still be there in a week, I guarantee it.” Turning his head back to Sam, he let out a soft sigh, watching as his young friend looked at his left hand, at the severe damage to that one and then at his broken one. This was not good; not good at all. There was only one person who Bobby knew could convince their boy that the doctors were right, that getting this operation was the right thing to do, and it wasn’t Bobby who could do that,  
“I’ll leave you two alone.”

With that, the older hunter walked out the door without waiting for a response, closing it behind him as he went.

It had been a long, too long of a day, and Bobby was feeling the start of a migraine coming on. When he had heard all the commotion coming from his front yard, Sam and Dean’s yells and then the screams of some unfamiliar voices, Bobby knew they had trouble. Grabbing his shotgun, as well as a spare phone from the kitchen, his suspicions were confirmed the minute he saw his two idjits sprawled out on the gravel lot and two punks towering over them, even as Dean was attempting to get to his feet. Even from a distance, Bobby was able to make out the way the oldest Winchester’s bad leg shook, as well as the fury and determination written all over his face. Sam on the other hand, was still on the ground, pain etched all over his own face as he cradled his right hand to his chest…but it was the anger, the rage on his face that caused the older man to cringe. Putting that aside as he cocked his gun, he had aimed the pistol at both teenager’s heads and had glared at them, ordering them to step back, to stop it, or he would shoot them.

Of course, he never did. Punks or not, they were still kids and more importantly, they were still human. It wasn’t his call or his responsibility to shoot them, even in the leg just to slow them down. Instead, he had pulled his phone out to call the cops; if there was any time he was more then willing to do something like that, it was now. It was seeing his boys in pain-pain caused by these assholes-that caused him to do such a thing. There was no way in Heaven or Hell that he would allow them to get away with it.

All within a matter of 30 minutes, but felt like 30 years, the police had not only arrived on Singer Salvage, but so had two sets of parents. The assholes parents, it had to be, from the way they had immediately gone over to the two police cars that were now carrying two idiots, handcuffed in the backseat.

Bobby shook his head with a roll of his eyes as he remembered the four adults coming towards him, after he had shuffled Sam and Dean into his own truck and had asked to see his boys. The older hunter remembered staring them down, just as he had done to the Winchesters just moments earlier and he knew that if looks could kill, these people would be on the ground themselves, writhing in pain.

What he didn’t see coming, however, was the blunt apology all four had asked for him to relay to the brothers. He had not seen that one coming, not by a long shot. The minutes had passed in a blur, before the older man had watched the last police car leave his yard before walking around to the driver’s seat and staring at his friends.

“Hospital for you two.”

If Bobby had expected some sort of arguing coming from the two boys, trying to find some way to get out of that particular visit, it didn’t come…the closest Bobby got to arguing was the bitch face Sam threw his way before his face contorted in excruciating agony as he held his arm close to him again. But neither said a word. Not one.

Not until they got to the hospital, that was. Not until the doctors had tried separating the brothers to examine them in different rooms. That was when things had nearly gotten ugly and Bobby himself had to step in, to play referee; because splitting Sam and Dean up NOW was not a good idea. It was never a good idea. But after what had happened in his own yard, which he was still trying to wrap his mind around, there was no way he was going to allow these boys to be in separate exam rooms.

Over his dead body. 

And over Dean’s dead body, from the look of death he had thrown the doctor.

The older hunter had seen it coming; he had thought he had mentally prepared himself for the inevitable when it came to Sam’s condition. 

His damaged hands, the missing fingers, the burn marks that had left a permanent mark on him…All of these were questions Bobby had been forced to answer, to attempt to explain. What was he supposed to say, my friend went to Hell, he jumped into Lucifer’s Cage to stop the Apocalypse and save humanity and was resurrected by a douchebag Archangel who refused to heal him? 

Yeah, that would go over wonderful. All three of them would have been transferred to the loony bin, in other words the Psych Ward, if those words had come out of his mouth.

Thankfully, before the older man had a chance to attempt to explain, Dean had piped up, come to his brother’s defense and had given them some twisted explanation that Bobby himself couldn’t even remember now as he walked slowly back to his house. He knew it would be nearly impossible to discharge his younger friend against medical advice, with his hands in the condition they were; surgery to amputate them had been ordered.

It wasn’t until the younger Winchester had pretty much gotten into the doctor’s face, his pain forgotten for the time being, and had flat out refused that Bobby knew this was going to be harder then expected. He knew that Sam got his stubbornness from John Winchester, as well as Dean, but he had not expected the younger boy to react this way. A mixture of so many different emotions were evident in Sam’s eyes, fear, anger, sadness, stubbornness, you name it; it wasn’t until Dean had grabbed a hold of his brother’s left arm and pulled him back down and ordered the doctor to give them a few minutes that Sam had started to calm down and allowed it to show on his face just how upset he truly was.

“Sam, what the hell are you doing?” Dean had demanded, ignoring his own pain in his knee as he kept a firm grip on his brother,  
“You cannot be serious-“

“I’m d-dead serious, Dean,” Sam interrupted, not bothering to pull away from his brother’s grip,  
“I can’t let t-them do it, I c-c-can’t. Just have them set me hand and let me leave; I’m not staying here any longer then I have to-“

“Don’t be stupid, Sammy-“

“I’m not,” The younger brother interrupted, his voice trembling as he spoke,  
“This is my d-decision; I’m not a child anymore, Dean. I-I won’t allow them…I won’t allow them to take my hands…or what’s left of them anyways…”

“Sam, don’t do this,” Bobby chimed in, stepping closer to the two brothers,  
“Don’t do this to yourself…you’re in pain, boy-“

“I know.”

“Then WHY?” Bobby demanded, trying so hard to understand just where Sam’s head was in this whole conversation. His friend was in pain and the doctors had the power to take that pain away from him, yet Sam was refusing,  
“Tell us why, boy-“

“I w-w-won’t let them…”

“Sammy, look at me,” Dean was growing more frustrated by the second, the longer Sam’s stubborn streak won out. Grabbing his little brother’s shoulder, he turned him to face him and took his face in his hands,  
“You’ve been in pain ever since you returned from Hell. Every single second of every single day. Why the hell are you being so stubborn about this? Let them help you!”

But, it didn’t go the way that he and Dean had expected or had wanted. Sam had still refused, not even just saying he would think about it. He had flat out refused. Which, of course, had led the doctors and nurses to make the decision to do what Sam wanted. His right hand had been set, casted and had been sent home against medical advice.

And Dean was pissed.

“Damn idjit…” He growled to himself as he walked into his house and shut the door behind them.

0000

“I don’t get you, Sammy,” Dean shook his head as he maneuvered himself until he was more comfortable on the bed…or rather, on Sam’s bed. Keeping his leg elevated on a pillow as he leaned back against the headboard, he watched Sam’s expression as his hazel eyes looked him up and down,  
“I just don’t…”

“Are you s-s-sure you’re alright, Dean?” Sam slowly asked, changing the subject, his eyes never leaving Dean’s swollen leg. He refused to meet his brother’s eyes; he knew he would just see disappointment in them for his decision,  
“T-Those idiots did a n-number on you-“

“Don’t change the subject, Sam,” Dean tersely interrupted, narrowing his eyes at his baby brother,  
“Why the hell are you being so stubborn?”

“I told you why, Dean,” Sam replied, bringing his legs up onto the bed and sitting so that he was facing his brother.

“Yeah, you were being a stubborn ass, that’s what you were being,” Dean huffed, attempting to meet Sam’s eyes,  
“Why won’t you let them help you? I know you’re scared about it, you already told me that, Sammy, but…the doctors are the professionals here, kid, not you.” Not getting a reply, instead getting a full blown bitch face, Dean narrowed his green eyes again,  
“Why are you so angry?”

“I n-never s-s-said I was angry-“

“Sam, you stutter more when you’re upset or pissed,” Dean pointed out,  
“You think I don’t know that by now?”

“Don’t-“

“Don’t what, Sam?” The older Winchester sat up straighter, watching as Sam lowered his head and glared down at his broken arm,  
“Don’t tell you the truth? Because I’ve been telling you the truth all our lives and I ain’t gonna stop now, little brother. You know the docs are right-“

“No.”

“No?” With a raised eyebrow, Dean pinned his brother with a stern look,  
“Really? Is that your final answer, Sam?”

“It’s m-m-my only ans-answer, D-D-Dean…” Sam stuttered, anger churning in his gut as his stutter came out worse then before,  
“Damnit…”

“What?” The older brother pushed, allowing his voice to soften a notch.

“Y-You want to know why I’m angry?” Sam’s voice dropped a notch as well as he finally looked from his casted arm back to his brother,  
“I c-c-couldn’t protect you from those bastards. I c-couldn’t protect myself. Everything I’m scared of got blown up in my face and…you and B-Bobby believe the doctors are right…plus I’m meeting up with S-S-Sarah in a few days…”

“You’re angry with me,” Dean nodded his head, accepting this and understanding it, but just as he was about to continue, he frowned as he saw Sam shake his head emphatically.

“No,” He rose to his feet shakily, his gaze softening as the last thing he wanted Dean to think was that he was angry with him,  
“Not with you, or B-Bobby, Dean…I’m just…angry…with everything…” Feeling a few tears threatening his eyes, he shook his head and continued softly,  
“Just everything…” With that, unable to look back into his brother’s eyes and fearing he would see shame and disappointment there, Sam turned back around and bolted for the bathroom, shutting it softly behind him. Leaning his back against the closed door, the younger Winchester brother brought his left arm up to his eyes and quietly cried.

0000

Several days later, Sarah Blake twirled her bag in her hands nervously as she shut the door to her car stared at the small cabin that greeted her. She had talked with Dean on the phone when he had picked up Sam’s cell the day before to get the directions to where they were staying. It had taken her by slight surprise when the older Winchester had picked up instead of Sam but chose not to let her surprise know. The older brother had come off as tired and stressed and Sarah could only wonder what else was going on and exactly what Sam had not told her.

She knew that Sam had quietly told her bits and pieces of what had happened to him in the last year and a half, but the younger woman knew there was so much more.

After all, dying and going to Hell alone and then being resurrected was not something any human being did on a daily basis.

Her heart hurting for her friend, as well as for Dean, Sarah closed her dark eyes tightly for a brief moment before to ward off any tears that were threatening to fall. Glancing down at her phone and looking at the address she had punched, she then glanced towards her left to see another house right next door. Dean had said they were staying in a small cabin on the property of a family friend’s, so there was no address.

Perfect. This had to be it then.

Taking her time to walk to the door, Sarah ran over questions in her head of what in the world she was supposed to say to Sam Winchester when she saw him again. What was there to say? “How are you doing? What’s up? How’s life? Are you okay?” Dumb questions and ones that made her cringe.

Really, the only question on her mind was if Sam was going to be okay and the declaration that he and Dean both had a friend who cared about them and would not judge them.

Her heart hammering loudly in her chest, Sarah made her way onto the front porch and hesitated only briefly before knocking softly, her ears strained as she listened for any life coming from inside the small cabin. Clutching her bag to her chest, she waited as she heard a chair move across the floor and soft footsteps sounded before the door opened slowly, as if the person opening it was having difficulty doing it.

The one who greeted her in the doorway caused Sarah’s heart to then break into a thousand pieces.

Sam. Sam Winchester was standing right in front of her. It had to be Sam Winchester.

The shy, floppy-haired younger boy who she had shared a tender kiss with all those years ago; the boy with that adorable, dimpled smile and a bit lanky. That boy was now gone, the sparkle that was in his hazel eyes was now replaced with a grim sadness, an anger, frustration and deep, deep hurt. His hair now nearly down to his shoulders and he looked ill, like he hadn’t eaten properly in weeks, as if the very weight of his situation was resting on his shoulders. His right arm was encased in a white plaster cast, which rested in a sling and his left hand carefully cradled his right…and that’s when Sarah noticed his hands.

Oh my God, his hands…

“Sarah…” 

Sarah looked straight into those lost, hurting puppy dog eyes and nearly started crying as she took him in, listened to the sound of his voice. Stepping closer, she reached her arms out and without saying a word, wrapped him up carefully in her arms. Feeling him stiffen slightly at her touch, but shakily returning the hug with his left arm, Sarah squeezed him tightly before letting him go,  
“Sam. It’s been quite a while…”

Nodding his head at that, Sam stepped aside and allowed her to enter the cabin just as Dean was leaving the bathroom on his crutches. Meeting his brother’s eyes, the younger Winchester smiled slightly in his direction as Dean’s face lit up.

“Sarah. It’s great to see you.”

“You too, Dean,” Sarah forced a smile as she took in the crutches. What in the hell had happened to these two? It had to have been worse then she ever imagined,  
“How are you doing?”

“Living the dream,” Dean smirked as she hobbled over to his bed and sat down, placing his crutches on the floor,  
“I’m gonna take a nap, so if you two wanta be alone…”

“I was thinking we could talk outside or something, Sam?” Sarah looked up at the younger brother and smiled gently at him,  
“What’dya say?”

With a nod of his head, Sam watched as his brother laid down against his pillows and turned to look at Sarah,  
“Alright…”

“C’mon,” With a hand resting lightly on his back, Sarah ushered him out of the door and closed it behind her to give Dean his peace and quiet as he fell asleep.

0000

“Oh my God,” Sarah covered her mouth with her hand as she stopped walking so that she could look straight into Sam’s pained eyes. Bobby Singer’s junk yard was a never-ending site, but Sarah wanted her friend to feel as comfortable as possible while talking with her, so she had come up with the idea of just taking a walk through Singer Salvage.

Now, almost two hours later, Sarah had heard pretty much all of Sam’s story. From the time she last saw him till just a few days ago.

Heaven. Hell. Demon blood. The Apocalypse. Angels and demons. Lucifer’s Cage. It went on and on. There were bits and pieces that Sam said he didn’t quite remember due to having lost some of his memory, but he knew enough of the situation and to put it bluntly…that was enough to go on.

And now, with Sam and Dean having faced a bunch of human punk teenagers just days ago and had gotten attacked when they were still healing, Sam had faced the news that he had never wanted to hear. And that was amputation of his hands.

“Dean thinks I’m being s-s-s-stubborn about it,” Sam looked down at his feet, refusing to meet Sarah in the eye as he spoke. Scuffing the dirt with his shoe, the gravel seemed like the most interesting thing in the universe right now,  
“And I know I am…but I j-j-ust c-can’t…”

Forcing back all the tangled up emotions that were threatening to swallow her whole, Sarah softly asked,   
“You know he’s just trying to be helpful, Sam. Right?”

“I do.”

“You know that he won’t think any different of you,” Sarah continued, reaching a tentative hand up to lift Sam’s chin, not paying attention to the flinch this caused,  
“You know that it won’t change you as a person or make you not worth being loved anymore. Because you know what?”

“What?” Sam finally lifted his hazel eyes, her hand still underneath his chin,  
“What, Sarah?”

Smiling, Sarah lowered her hand,  
“Because you’re still Sam Winchester. You’re not the same person you were 6 years ago, but none of that matters, because you’re still an amazing human being who went through all of this because he was selfless. But you said you were also in a lot of pain, Sam…you don’t deserve to be in that amount of pain, my friend.”

Sam remained silent, his heart heavy as he listened to her. 

“Your brother and Bobby are right, Sam; they want nothing more then to take that pain away and it’s right there if you would only accept it,” Pushing back a few tears, as she refused to cry or show weakness in front of him, the younger woman looked straight into Sam’s eyes, her own eyes intense and dead serious,  
“I’ll be behind you 100% with this, Sam, I promise. And you can still be there for your brother as he’s going through his own problems right now, even if you do lose your hands. I can tell just by looking at you that you’re worried sick about Dean, that you won’t be able to take care of him like he does you, but that’s not true. None of it’s true. You can still take care of your brother, and I think he will allow you take care of him more once you start taking care of yourself.” Reaching over and lifting his damaged left hand, carefully holding it in hers, she smiled,  
“Even if you had to get both arms amputated or both legs, that doesn’t change you, Sam. It never has and it never will.”

“That’s what Dean’s always said…”

“Then maybe you’ll start listening to reason by hearing it from somebody else’s perspective, huh? Somebody who hasn’t known you as long,” She paused,  
“Listen to your big brother, Sam. And I’m here as your friend, because I know you both need one right now.”

0000

Dean slowly felt himself waking up from a deep sleep hours later; whenever that happened suddenly, it usually only meant one thing and one thing only.

His “Sammy radar” was going off and his baby brother needed him.

Blinking his eyes to get the sleep out of them, he turned over in bed and sat straight up as he saw his brother sitting on the edge of his own bed, staring at him, deep in thought. Running a hand down his face and forcing himself to function properly, Dean sat straighter and smiled softly at his little brother,  
“You okay, Sam?”

Nodding his head immediately, Sam opened his mouth to speak but stopped as went over his thoughts one more time. No, he couldn’t lie to his brother; he couldn’t tell him he was doing fine when he wasn’t. In between mid-nod, he gulped and instead shook his head hard, long hair falling into his eyes,  
“No…”

Scooting over to make room for Sam, Dean patted the bed,  
“Get over here.”

Knowing he didn’t have to be told twice, Sam pushed himself up from his bed and took a seat next to Dean. Unable to control the flood of tears any longer, the younger Winchester looked directly into his big brother’s eyes and whispered,  
“I’m sorry…”

“I know you are.”

“I’m s-s-s-sorry, D-Dean…you were right; you were right from the get-go,” Choking on a soft sob, he shook his head,  
“I h-have to do it, d-d-don’t I?”

It was killing him to answer this, but as Dean turned to face his brother straight in the eye, he carefully replied, trying to be as gentle as possible. Chick-flick moment be damned again; he did not care anymore about that stupid rule,  
“Yeah, Sammy…”

“I’m sorry.”

“C’mere, kid,” Before the words were even completely out of his mouth, he felt Sam carefully lean into him and his left arm wrapping around him as tightly as it could. Wrapping his arms around Sam’s shoulders and holding him to his chest, Dean rested his chin on the top of his brother’s head and closed his eyes,  
“You’ll be okay, little brother. You’ll be okay.”

0000

TBC


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

“You’re gonna do just fine, Sammy; don’t worry about a thing and I’ll be right there with you when you wake up.”

Sam continued to look straight up at his brother’s face as he lay flat on his back on the stretcher, feeling his heart continue to race faster and faster. Glancing to his left over at Bobby and feeling his friend’s hand squeezing his shoulder reassuringly, Sam swallowed and blinked his eyes rapidly. Turning back to his brother, he whispered shakily,  
“Promise…”

“Have I ever broken a promise?” The older brother whispered back, his hand moving from his brother’s upper arm to his hair and smoothing it out of Sam’s hazel eyes. Watching as his little brother shook his head, Dean smiled reassuringly,  
“Then you know the answer.”

“I’m scared.”

“We know, son,” Bobby piped up, his hand never leaving Sam’s shoulder as he stared into the kid’s huge puppy dog eyes,  
“But you won’t feel a thing and it’ll be over before you know it.” He attempted a smile for the younger Winchester’s sake,  
“Just relax and let the doctors and nurses do their job, alright?”

As the younger Winchester nodded slightly and turned back to his brother, Sam listened as his brother continued gently,  
“Remember everything we talked about when we decided this, Sammy; you’re going to be alright, I promise.” Not caring that he knew Bobby was watching or that he was entering the zone of all chick-flick moments, Dean leaned down and laid a gentle kiss on top of his brother’s head before whispering into his ear,  
“I love you, kiddo.”

“…love you, too,” Sam whispered back just as the Anesthesiologist walked up and cleared his throat,  
“Dean…”

“Are you ready, Samuel?” The older man smiled gently down at his patient and as Sam nodded his head in reply, he turned towards Bobby and Dean,  
“We’ll come and get you gentlemen when we’re finished. If you could just make your way out to the waiting room now, it’s right through those double doors.” He moved towards the stretcher that Sam lay on just as a nurse dressed in blue scrubs approached as well.

“I’ll be there when you wake up, Sammy,” Dean repeated as he felt Bobby grab his arm and start to pull him in the direction of the large double doors, his green eyes never leaving his baby brother as he was pushed on the stretcher away from him,  
“Don’t you worry about a thing.”

“Dean,” Bobby urged gently, pulling on his arm,  
“C’mon…” It took a few more tries before the older hunter managed to practically drag Dean out of the room and back towards the surgical waiting room where Sarah Blake was still seated in the same spot as before,  
“You know he’ll be okay.”

“Yeah…” Dean mumbled quietly to himself as he looked into Sarah’s concerned dark eyes as they got closer to her,  
“Yeah.”

0000

One month earlier…

There wasn’t anything Dean could do or so to make his little brother feel any better so he did the only thing he could do in this situation, the only thing Sam really and truly needed right then.

He just held him and let him cry.

It was something that was far overdue and something Sam had to get out of his system without Dean attempting to quiet him or trying to tell him useless information like, “don’t worry, everything will be alright.” His little brother didn’t need that and the older Winchester knew deep in his gut that right now, Sam just needed him to be silent.

So that’s what he did.

The minutes passed by slowly and still, Dean didn’t move from where he was sitting on his bed, arms protectively cradling Sam as he kept his face buried in his shoulder. Finally hearing the soft sobs quieting and feeling his brother slowly starting to pull back from him, Dean kept a hand on his shoulder as he could tell that Sam could still use some sort of physical contact.

“Thanks, Dean,” Sam whispered bleakly, lifting his left arm and swiping the sleeve across his face, brushing away all the final traces of tears,  
“S-Sorry about that…”

“Stop that,” Dean gently admonished,  
“Don’t even attempt to go there, Sam.” He watched as Sam lowered his hazel eyes, attempting to hide them under a curtain of long hair and with as much gentleness as he could muster, the older brother cupped his hand underneath Sam’s chin and lifted it up towards him,  
“What is it, Sammy?”

“I-I’m so scared…”

“Of what?”

“E-Everything.” Sam sighed and closed his eyes as he felt a sharp pain jolt through his broken hand. Reaching out and cradling his casted arm closer to him, Sam continued quietly,  
“I-I know you a-and B-B-Bobby are right, Dean…about the op-operation…” He fully expected his brother to interrupt, but when he didn’t, he continued on,  
“But I’m just afraid that it’ll define m-me…that I-I’ll be even m-more of a f-f-freak then before-“

“Hold on, hold on a minute here,” Dean interrupted, his hand tightening underneath Sam’s chin,  
“Nobody calls my little brother a freak but me; not even you get to do that, Sam.” He held a hand up as Sam attempted to interrupt,  
“Don’t you dare think that this defines you even a little bit and even if when you do go out in public again and some asshole gives you shit, well then I’ll give them shit right back because nobody messes with you and gets away with it. I won’t let them get away with it, Sam.” He sighed and softened his tone a notch,  
“This will never define you, Sammy. Hands or no hands, it won’t matter. We’ll get you fitted for prosthetics immediately; remember how the doctor told us they had some pretty spiffy kinds? There are some that are so lifelike and up-to-date that those that wear them can even move their fingers, feel things again and use them like regular hands. Hell, I wouldn’t mind a pair myself!” He winked at his little brother and was pleasantly surprised when a quiet laugh, mixed with a few tears, escaped Sam as he rolled his eyes.

“Sure you would, Dean,” The younger brother chuckled.

“I would!” Dean insisted,  
“They’ll be so damn awesome and you can take them on and off as you please.” He winked again before turning serious,  
“But seriously, Sam. Nobody will ever get away with hurting you again; you saved the world, Sam, you did the most selfless thing a human being could ever do and that douchebag Archangel that pulled you from the pit will surely get an ass-kicking if I see him again…rescuing you but not healing you…” Anger churned in Dean’s gut, but he forced it down as he turned his full attention back to his baby brother,  
“You understand what I’m telling you, Sammy?”

Nodding his head silently, Sam lowered his eyes back down to his broken arm and tried not to cringe as he took in all the damage,  
“W-What do we do now?”

“Now,” Dean replied, squeezing Sam’s shoulder reassuringly,  
“Now, we talk with Bobby and get you an appointment with the doctor again.”

0000

Dean jerked out of his thoughts as he heard a soft voice calling his name. Glancing at the clock and seeing that he had only been sitting here for 10 minutes, the older Winchester turned to Sarah, who was sitting beside him, her face filled with concern.

“Sorry, Sarah, were you saying something?” He frowned, rubbing his forehead as he felt the start of a headache coming on.

“I was just asking if you were alright,” The younger woman carefully prodded, her forehead wrinkling with concern,  
“Are you?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Rolling her eyes to the ceiling, Sarah shook her head and rose to her feet, grabbing her purse,  
“I’m gonna steal this one from you for a little while, Bobby, okay?” She smiled slightly as the older gruff hunter snorted.

“You can keep that idjit as long as you need to, Sarah.”

“C’mon, let’s go grab a cup of coffee down in the cafeteria. My treat,” She urged, grabbing Dean’s arm and pulling him to his feet.

“Sarah, I can’t, Sam’s-“

“Sam’s gonna be in there for a few hours at the very least, Dean,” Bobby interrupted, meeting Dean’s eyes,  
“And even if he wasn’t, I’m here and I wouldn’t let the doctors say anything anyways to me unless you were here, so you don’t have to worry.” He nodded towards Sarah,  
“Go.”

Not waiting for a reply, Sarah kept a grip on Dean’s arm and practically dragged him towards the elevators and pushed the down button. Neither spoke as they got in the elevator and made their way down to the cafeteria and the awkward silence continued even as they sat at their table, cups of coffee in between them. Dean twirled his cup in his hands, staring down at the liquid and mentally kicking himself for not attempting to smuggle a bottle of beer into the hospital with him this morning. 

God only knew that he needed it.

As if reading his thoughts, Sarah arched an eyebrow and opened her purse, her eyes still on Dean as she did so,  
“Here.” Pulling out a can which she had shoved in their early that morning before heading over to where the Winchester’s were saying, Sarah nervously smiled as she looked around them before pushing it towards Dean. The last thing they needed right now was to get caught,  
“I knew you would need it, Dean.”

Pushing the coffee away, as that wasn’t what his body needed right then, Dean popped the can of beer open and took a long swig, drowning the entire contents within a matter of moments,  
“Thanks, Sarah…this is really quite embarrassing to tell you the truth,” His face flushed bright red as he spoke,  
“I wasn’t even thinking this morning-“

“You don’t have to explain,” Sarah gently interrupted, reaching forward and squeezing Dean’s hand briefly,  
“I’m sure that this wasn’t the thing that was on your mind this morning…”

“Damn straight it wasn’t,” Dean growled, twirling the now empty bottle of beer in his hands. Another awkward silence followed before he pushed the can away and shook his head, running a trembling hand through his hair,  
“God, Sammy…”

“What?”

Dean lifted his head. He had been unaware that he had even spoken those words outloud.

“Nothing.”

“Dean.” Sarah lifted an eyebrow and folded her arms over her chest,  
“Spit it out.”

“Sarah, it’s nothing-“

“Nothing my ass,” She frowned at him, leaning forward on the table,  
“There’s something you need to talk about; there’s something that’s eating you up inside. So out with it, Dean Winchester. I’ve got all day.”

Glaring slightly in her direction, but not saying anything, Dean then closed his eyes and shook his head. How in the hell did this happen? Since when did Sarah Blake get so demanding?

“I learned how to be stubborn in the years I haven’t seen you and Sam,” She continued when Dean didn’t answer back,  
“I’d say it’s starting to come in handy. Now out with it.” 

A few tense moments passed before the older Winchester rolled his eyes and ran another trembling hand through his hair and down his face before speaking,  
“When Sammy wakes up after the surgery…” He stopped, finally meeting Sarah’s gentle gaze as she silently urged him to continue,  
“This’ll be just another reason to feel guilty…”

“Guilty for what, Dean?” Sarah frowned, her brow creasing again.

“Guilty for what?” Dean repeated, arching both eyebrows at the younger woman,  
“What’s not to feel guilty about, Sarah? I mean, you already know everything that happened in the last year and a half, right?” When she nodded, he went on,  
“I think that explains for itself, doesn’t it?”

“No, actually, it doesn’t,” Sarah narrowed her eyes,  
“Enlighten me.”

Sighing impatiently, Dean shook his head once again,  
“I never should have let Sam take that swan dive into Hell to begin with, Sarah; I should’ve tried harder to save him and instead, I gave him my full permission to do it.” He reached forward and grabbed the empty can of beer, crushing it in his hands,  
“Then I didn’t even bother to fulfill his final wish to live a normal life; that was his wish right before he died, Sarah, and I didn’t do it. Okay, so I managed a week…but still. Then I go and get drunk out of my mind; I nearly get myself killed before Bobby finally manages to find me…and yet I still haven’t figured out a way to get that kid out of Hell!” He waited, watching Sarah’s expression; he fully expected a look of complete disgust to come over her face, but it never came,  
“And then what do I do? I make a deal with some douchebag, son of a bitch Archangel to save my baby brother from the pit…the cost being alcoholism for the rest of my life. I drink for the rest of my life or I’ll die and Sam will go back to Hell.” He snorted,  
“What kind of big brother does that? Sammy was a mess when he came out of Hell, Sarah; he couldn’t even talk…”

“He told me.” Sarah finally spoke up, reaching out and placing her hands over Dean’s as they continued to crunch the empty can.

Continuing as if Sarah hadn’t even spoken, Dean continued, his tone changing from one of impatience and anger at himself to deep shame,  
“I know he’s pissed at me for all it, Sarah-“

“Why would you say that?”

“Why wouldn’t he be?” Dean shrugged,  
“I let him rot in Hell for a year and a half our time…which is over 100 years Hell time. I got pissed ass drunk in front of him countless times; I even punched him once when he was just trying to help me. I made a deal with that angel and didn’t even think about the consequences or the amount of pain this would cause Sam when he was rescued. All I wanted was my baby brother back. I’m sure that he hates me, although he keeps telling me that he doesn’t-“

“That’s because he doesn’t, Dean,” Sarah interrupted, removing her hands from Dean’s and folding her hands on the table.

“And how would you know that?” Dean snapped, glaring in her direction.

Narrowing her eyes right back at him, Sarah tilted her head to the side,  
“Because he told me so, Dean,” She slowly replied, wanting her words to sink in to the older Winchester. He desperately needed to know this and believe it and this was the perfect opportunity to explain,  
“When I saw you guys that morning.” She held her hand up as Dean started to interrupt,  
“Let me say this, Dean, please.” Her voice softened,  
“Sam thinks the world of you, Dean; he’s not the type of person who holds grudges and even if he did hold a grudge against you, he wouldn’t hold it for long because you’re his big brother. And he loves you more then life itself and he’s worried sick about you.” She watched as Dean’s green eyes widened in shock,  
“Believe it, because it’s true, Dean. He’s just as worried about you as you are about him, but you two are both too stubborn to believe it. You want to help him and all he wants is to help you. He told me that day that every time he tries to talk with you about your feelings, you turn it around so that you can help him and not let him help you. Do you see a pattern here, Dean? That’s not the actions of somebody who ‘hates’ you and doesn’t love you; those are the actions of someone who loves you so dearly that he’s afraid you’re going to kill yourself one of these days.”

“I’m not gonna kill myself, Sarah,” Dean cut in.

“Then let Sam know that,” Sarah went on,  
“Sam also told me about the nightmares he was having…” She watched as Dean cringed slightly at the mention of Sam’s nightmares,  
“I wouldn’t bring this up if it wasn’t important, but you need to know that most of the nightmares he has been having haven’t all had to do with Hell, Dean. They’ve dealt with you.”

“Me?”

Nodding, Sarah closed her eyes as she remembered Sam explaining this to her,  
“He told me that he’s seen you die in that car accident over and over again and he was unable to do anything about it. He still dreams about Hell of course; that won’t go away, but a lot of the times, they’re about you.”

“Why didn’t he say anything?” Dean felt a few tears prickling the corners of his eyes at the mention of this. What the hell?

“Why do you think, Dean?” Sarah firmly pushed,  
“Because he knew that you were just going to worry and fuss over him instead of worrying about yourself for a change. You seriously think that Sam, your brother, your little brother who has always looked up to you, would hate you because of something like drinking?” Not giving Dean an opportunity to object, she went on in the same tone,  
“He doesn’t care about that, Dean; he never has. He just worries that you don’t give a damn about yourself. That’s always how it’s been, Dean; you’ve got to believe that. He loves you more then his own life and would willingly throw himself back into Hell if it meant saving you.”

Closing his eyes tightly at Sarah’s words, Dean ran a hand down his face yet again as he felt his heart aching,  
“Oh my God, Sammy…”

0000

“The surgery was a success, Dean; we need to just let him sleep,” Bobby gently reassured as he carefully pushed Dean down into the chair beside Sam’s bed,  
“You heard the doctors.”

Ignoring Bobby’s words and both his and Sarah’s presence in the room, Dean made a move to grab onto Sam’s hand, but stopped when his eyes saw the stark white bandages covering where his little brother’s hands used to be. The surgeon had amputated just above Sam’s wrists and Dean felt his heart break all over again. Pushing the bed railing down so that he get closer to his baby brother, the older Winchester reached his right hand out and ran it through Sam’s long hair, tangling his fingers into it as his other hand rested on his brother’s upper arm,  
“Just rest, Sammy. I’ll be right there when you wake up, just like I promised.” He watched as Sarah took a seat on Sam’s other side,“You’ve got your friends and family here with you, kiddo. You’re gonna be okay.” Keeping his hands on his brother as he slept on, Dean turned to face the younger woman sitting on the other side of the bed,  
“You staying, Sarah?”

“Just until he awakes,” She nodded,  
“I’ll need to catch my flight afterwards, but I just want him to know I was here.”

Nodding in understanding, the older brother turned his attention back to Sam,  
“Just rest, Sammy.”

0000

TBC


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

The first thing Sam was aware of before he even opened his eyes was the gentle feel of a hand running through his hair and another hand resting on his upper arm, thumb rubbing gentle circles on it. The second, when his hazel eyes finally opened a crack, was the bright white light shinning down on him and it wasn’t until he flinched and shut his eyes again that the hand running through his hair came to a stop and he heard a voice.

A familiar voice.

“You’re okay, Sammy. Can you open your eyes for me again?”

Dean’s voice. That was Dean’s voice. 

Bright light, an unfamiliar bed…and no pain. That had to mean only one thing, didn’t it? A hospital. More specifically, a hospital recovery room or a patient room. Very slowly, his brain started to remember everything that had taken place that morning…Morning? Had it only been that morning? Why did it feel like a couple of days? How long had he been out?

“Sammy?” Suddenly, Dean’s voice was no longer directed towards him,  
“Bobby…”

“Can you hear us, son?” He heard his friend’s voice speak up next and as Sam heard it get closer, Bobby continued,  
“Easy does it…”

“Sam?” Dean spoke up again, his voice now laced with fear and anxiety and Sam then felt the rubbing on his arm continue,  
“I know you can hear me, buddy.”

Another few tense moments passed before Sam forced himself to wrench his eyes open once again and although his vision was slightly blurred at first, he could just make out the figure standing over him, a trembling smile plastered on his face.

Dean.

“Dean…” The younger Winchester whispered softly before gulping, his throat parched with thirst,  
“Dean…B-Bobby…?” He attempted a small smile of his own as he saw the older hunter standing right behind Dean’s shoulder.

“And me.”

Slowly turning his head to his right at the sound of a soft female voice, Sam blinked his eyes slowly as his vision started to clear and he was able to make out the dark hair and pretty features.

Sarah Blake.

That’s right. Memories were coming back to him in full force now. The last couple of hours before he was taken into surgery, the last couple of weeks when Sarah had arrived at the cabin, the punks who had tried with everything in them to take him and Dean down the day of his brother’s interview…

“Here.” Dean’s voice caused Sam to turn back in the direction of his brother, who was now holding a plastic cup filled to the brim with water and a straw stuck in the center,  
“Have a sip, Sammy.”

Just as Sam was attempting to push himself up onto his elbows and reach out to grasp onto the cup however, Dean’s hand came in contact with his arm again and gently attempted to push him back down,  
“Hold on a second, kiddo-“ Dean shut his mouth right then as he set the cup on a nearby table and watched as his little brother’s eyes travelled down to his hands…or rather, what was left of his hands at least. Not sure what to expect, as this was not the way he had wanted to go about this, the older Winchester looked in between Bobby and Sarah and back again,  
“Could you give us a minute, Bobby?”

Not one to have to be told twice when it came to Sam, the older hunter nodded and waited until Sarah had risen to her feet before their friends walked out the door, shutting it behind them. 

“Sam-“

“I-I almost forgot…” Sam whispered, his eyes not moving from where they were looking down at the white bandages,  
“I almost forgot this was the reason…this was the r-reason I was h-having surgery…”

Dean was silent as he allowed his baby brother to talk. He needed him to just listen right now; Sam didn’t need him to make empty promises right now, especially so soon after waking up from this type of thing.

“I-I wish it wasn’t true…” Sam continued, his voice no higher then a whisper. Lifting his head, he finally met his brother’s concerned green eyes with his own,  
“W-What are we going to do n-now…?”

“You let Bobby and I worry about that, okay, buddy?” Dean smiled gently back, all the while forcing himself to not break down in front of his brother. He was not going to do that,  
“Just tell me one thing.”

“Yeah?” Sam lowered his eyes once more and examined the IV inserted into his left arm and the lump which used to be his hands.

“Tell me, how is the pain?” 

Lifting his head once again, all the while hearing soft footsteps approaching right outside his door, Sam met his brother’s eyes and replied,  
“It’s kinda uncomfortable...it hurts a little f-from surgery, but…the p-pain from Hell…” He blinked his eyes rapidly as emotions swarmed through him, so many different emotions: sadness, relief, happiness, anxiety. All of them at once. But with one look into his brother’s stressed eyes, Sam couldn’t hold back the slight smile, despite the few tears that were brimming in his own eyes,  
“T-That pain is gone, Dean…it’s gone…”

Ignoring the fact that his little brother’s door was now opening and the white-coated doctor was now walking in, Dean finally allowed a few tears to brim in his own eyes as he leaned over the bed railing and cupped the back of Sam’s neck his hand, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead.

The pain was gone. Sammy’s pain from Lucifer’s Cage was gone.

And even though there was still so much that needed to be done, so much to worry about regarding his own alcoholism and Sam’s recovery, all Dean could thin about right then was that Sam was no longer in pain.

And he couldn’t be happier.

0000

3 months later…

“I can do it, Dean; I think I’ve got the hang of this,” Sam mumbled to himself without looking at his brother as he used the prosthetic hands he had made specifically for him and placed them on the laptop keys, determination etched on his face,  
“I’ll never get the full hang of this if I continue asking for help.”

Rolling his eyes to the ceiling as he sat down in the chair beside his brother, elbows resting on the table, Dean shook his head and kept his eyes on Sam,  
“Stubborn little bitch.”

“Who do you think I get it from?” Sam quipped back, never once turning to face his brother, hazel eyes instead staring down at the keyboard.

“Are you sure you don’t need any help with-“

“I got it, Dean,” The younger Winchester interrupted gently, no heat, anger or impatience in his voice. Just determination and lots of it.

The last three months had passed surprisingly fast, much to Dean’s astonishment. He wasn’t sure once Sam was released from the hospital how his baby brother was going to function without his hands. It had been a decision that, of course, was never taken lightly to begin with but when worse came to worse, both brothers knew what had to be done. And Sam, stubborn brother that he was, was more determined then ever to get fitted with prosthetics as soon as his doctor had given him the go ahead. Dean had not expected his little brother to be so willing to go ahead with the fitting, but once Sam had looked him straight in the eye and told him it was what he had wanted to do, the older Winchester couldn’t deny him that. 

He wasn’t sure how long it would take, especially given the fact that Sam was getting fitted for a pair that would allow his brother to not only move his fingers, but be able to touch things and pick items up again. Without pain. 

Even better, both Winchester’s were surprised-and happy-when Sarah had offered to help pay for the cost of the very thing that would turn Sam’s life around. Both brothers had tried to talk her out of it, but by the time they had gone to retrieve the life-like hands, Sam had nearly broken down crying when he found out that Sarah had gone ahead and paid for everything.

Now, two weeks later, Dean sat in awe as he watched his little brother use his laptop for the first time in months and the older brother’s heart nearly soured at this image. Sure, Sam couldn’t type as quickly as he used to before Hell; that was to be expected. But just being able to use his computer again…it was more then Dean had ever wished for. 

On top of everything else, Dean had realized that as the weeks turned into months, the stutter in Sam’s voice had finally left; the fear and shame that had been present in his voice, which had caused his brother to stutter more often then not, was finally replaced with a clear-sounding voice again. Sure, Sam’s voice was still lower then it used to be over a year ago, but it was improving day by day.

“Told you.”

Dean looked into his brother’s hazel eyes and grinned when he saw the mischief shinning in them,  
“Okay, smartass.” With another roll of his eyes, he grabbed the laptop and pressed the off button, pushing it away from him,  
“Seriously though, they still working okay for you?”

“Sometimes it’s a little uncomfortable and it takes some getting used to, of course; but they don’t hurt and I can actually feel things. That doesn’t happen every day, Dean,” Sam’s voice was serious as he spoke.

“You know what, Sammy, I’m not sure if you even realized this, but…” He stopped as he turned in his chair to face his little brother head on,  
“The stuttering has stopped. Have you noticed that?”

Eyebrow arched in surprise at the mention of this, Sam frowned in concentration as he went over in his brain what Dean had just said and after a few silent moments, he arched both eyebrows and replied,  
“I never noticed until now…”

Gently placing a hand on his brother’s shoulder, Dean ignored the trembling in his fingers as he squeezed and was about to continue talking when he noticed Sam’s eye travel down to his own hands.

“Dean, you need your alcohol,” Sam furrowed his brow as he watched Dean’s hands shake, despite how he tried to hide it,  
“Did you have any yet today?”

Huffing, the older Winchester rolled his eyes,  
“Of course, Sammy-“

“Lying,” Sam interrupted with a frown. Pushing himself up from the chair, he walked quickly towards the kitchen and despite the slight awkwardness of it, slowly pulled open the fridge and grabbed onto the nearest beer bottle,  
“You need this and you know it.” Ignoring the irritated look Dean was shooting his way, Sam walked back over to the table and placed it right in front of him,  
“Drink. Right here, right now.” He narrowed his eyes at his big brother as he just stared at the bottle,  
“Do it, Dean.”

“Now who’s being bossy?” Dean grumbled under his breath as he shakily pulled off the cap and chugged down a gulps of the burning liquid,  
“Happy now, Sam?”

“Very,” Grinning, the younger brother took a seat in his chair again,  
“Now what were you saying?”

Shaking his head and choosing to ignore that his brother was getting more and more stubborn by the day when it came to his drinking-or rather his lack thereof lately-Dean sighed and continued on as if this whole drinking business had not just happened right now,  
“The Impala.”

“What about her?”

Smiling at the very thought of his beloved Baby, but soon frowning as he recalled the last time he had been behind the wheel and crashed her without a second thought. He remembered literally living in the car back when he had taking to drinking so much alcohol day in and day at that he didn’t care about his life or what was becoming of it. All he cared about was his little brother in Hell. Taking care of the Impala had been the last thing on his mind and it wasn’t until he had started working just a few weeks ago, that his mind had gone over the condition of the car. Was she still fixable? Who would be able to drive her? She deserved to be driven, not sitting in Bobby’s junk yard, waiting to be fixed up…if ever.

Dean recalled how just last night when he was walking home from his shift, he had passed the trashed Impala sitting there like a lump on a log in Bobby’s yard, untouched, uncared for…and the older Winchester had nearly slumped on the ground and cried at the mere sight of her. He had been unable to look at his girl for too long before he had walked past the Impala and back to the cabin where Sam was waiting.

Now though…it wasn’t until he had seen just how well Sam was managing with his prosthetics that an idea was forming in his mind. He knew he would not be able to drive in his condition; he was an alcoholic for the rest of his life...even though lately he had been trying as hard as he could to not drink in front of his little brother. It didn’t matter though, he was still an alcoholic and nothing was going to change that. And he would not risk Sam’s safety, of him being sent back to Hell; there was no way on God’s green earth that he would allow that to happen to his baby brother again.

“Dean?”

Silence.

“Dean!”

“Yeah?” Dean jerked out of his thoughts as he looked back up at his brother and saw the confusion written all over his face,  
“Right, sorry, Sam…”

“What about the Impala?” Sam continued, his frown deepening as he stared intently at his brother. He was trying to ignore the way his brother was acting, but this wasn’t the first time he had spaced out like this; and it sure wasn’t the first time he had seen Dean’s hands shaking from his lack of drinking. This was something he was going to have to talk with his brother about…sooner rather then later.

“I was just thinking, you know, have you thought of learning how to drive again?” Dean attempted a weak smile for Sam’s sake, watching as his little brother’s frown turned into a smile of his own,  
“Since I’m unable to…and you’re doing awesome with those prosthetics. We could get the Impala cleaned up, as she hasn’t been driven in months; not since my accident, actually,” He watched as sadness crept over Sam’s face as he lowered his eyes to his lap,  
“But I can re-teach you how to do it, that way you can get more of your freedom back and feel even more normal again. Plus, you could even drive me to work.” Unable to resist, he shot a wink over in Sam’s direction and elbowed him gently in the ribs.

Lifting his head up as Dean was speaking to him, Sam’s hazel eyes widened in surprise at this offer,  
“What?”

“Yeah,” Dean nodded his head,  
“Bobby’s already agreed to give me the keys of the Impala back to me under the condition that I don’t drive, so sure, why not?” He elbowed his brother again,  
“What’dya say, Sammy?”

Lifting an elbow to wipe away the few tears that were threatening to fall, Sam nodded his head and smiled,  
“Thanks, Dean.”

0000

“I’ll be right out in a minute, Sam,” Dean turned from the doorway leading out into Bobby’s junk yard and called back over his shoulder,  
“Just don’t start it without me, alright?”

“Dean, I’m four years younger then you, not four years old,” Sam shot back and the older Winchester grinned as he knew that his brother was shooting him the ultimate bitch face,  
“Just do what you need to do, okay?”

Walking back into the kitchen with a slight shake of his head at how very Sammy that was, Dean couldn’t stop himself from smiling even as he felt himself growing light-headed and unsteady on his feet. Several days had passed since he had brought up cleaning and restoring the Impala together and now, the day had come and Dean couldn’t remember being this excited to do something with his baby brother in a very long time. It had been too long.

Placing a shaky hand on his head as he started to sway on his feet, Dean placed a hand on the wall to support himself and forced himself to continue towards the fridge. He knew he had not been taking responsibility with this drinking lately, especially while he was in front of Sam, but Dean still couldn’t shake this doubt from his head. Even after his talk with Sarah at the hospital while his brother was in surgery, Dean still found himself doubting himself day in and day out, and it was only those times when Sam would literally shove a bottle of beer into his hand that he would drink in front of him. All other times, he would choose to do it at work and figured that would be enough for the day.

Ignoring the nagging feeling in his gut telling him how stupid and irresponsible he was being, Dean finally made it over to the fridge and jerked the door open, his eyes falling on the few remaining bottles left. His gut was telling him to go for it; it was what his body needed and he would pass out-or worse-if he didn’t do it…but then again…

“I forgot something,” Sam’s voice startled the older brother out of his thoughts and Dean turned around just as Sam walked into the kitchen and made his way over to the garbage bags which were sitting on the counter,  
“Hey, what are you…” He stopped mid-sentence as his eyes fell on what Dean was looking at and his eyebrows rose a notch,  
“Take it, Dean.”

Once again, all that greeted him was silence, but before Sam could jump in and say anything, he watched as his older brother’s face turned a sickly shade of pale and his legs started to give out from under him,  
“Dean!” Sam cried out loud, lurching forward and catching Dean under his arms just before he hit the hard floor,  
“What the fuck, man?!” Lowering him down to the ground in the middle of the kitchen, the younger Winchester gave his brother a hard shake, watching as his eyes stared up at him, but not really seeing him,  
“Shit!” Setting his brother up against the wall, Sam scrambled to his feet and leapt towards the still open refrigerator and grabbed the closest bottle of beer. Gritting his teeth as his prosthetic hands seemed to have a difficult time unscrewing the cap, Sam shouted,  
“COME ON!” Finally with a pop, the cap fell to the floor and not wasting any time, the younger brother placed the bottle to Dean’s lips and practically forced the liquid down his throat,  
“Drink, damnit! Drink!”

A few nerve wracking moments passed before the silence was broken as Dean coughed loudly and jerked up, the color slowly making its way back into his face,  
“What the hell just happened?”

His concern being pushed aside for the moment as he felt his face turning bright red with anger, Sam shook his head and pushed the bottle back to Dean’s mouth,  
“Drink the rest of that, Dean; that’s an order.”

“C’mon, Sammy, I’m okay,” Dean started, taking another sip before drawing in a deep breath. What in the world had just happened? One minute he was feeling shaky, like he was going to pass out and the next minute he was on the floor-

“Don’t ‘Sammy’ me!” Sam shouted, still kneeling beside his brother on the floor,  
“You almost got yourself killed! What the hell were you thinking, Dean?”

Eyebrows arching up to his forehead at Sam’s outburst, Dean pushed himself up on the floor and groaned as he finally rose to his feet. He was barely steady before he found his little brother staring him straight in the eye.

“Answer me, Dean!” Sam continued with his rant,  
“Were you purposely attempting to get yourself killed again? Was that it?”

“What? No!”

“Then what the hell just happened?” Sam’s voice cracked slightly, but he continued shouting,  
“I come in here to get the garbage bags and I find you standing in front of the fridge…just STARING at it, like you’re not sure what you’re doing and next thing I know, you’re collapsing and you’re turning the shade of death! This is about the alcohol, isn’t it, Dean? You haven’t been drinking in front of me, unless I pretty much force it upon you. You’re shaking every single time I get a look at your hands and yet you claim to be alright!”

“I’m FINE, Sam-“

“Bullshit, Dean!” Sam snapped heatedly, reaching out and grabbing the collar of his brother’s shirt,  
“You’re not fine, you haven’t been fine, so quit trying to tell me you’re fine, Dean! If you were ‘fine’, you wouldn’t be choosing to try and kill yourself like this-“

“That’s not what I’m doing!” Dean shouted back.

“Then what ARE you doing?” Sam continued with his rant,  
“Enlighten me for a minute here, Dean, because I would love to understand what’s going on in that head of yours! Please, just explain it to me why you still feel like you’re unimportant to me, why you feel like I would still be better off without you! Tell me, please…” His voice cracked again and the younger brother’s ranting turned into more of a plea,  
“Just...please… What do I have to do or say to you to get you to see how much I need you? How much I want to help you? Tell me what it is I have to do to get you to believe…to get you to believe that I don’t CARE about your alcoholism?” His eyes filled with sadness as a few tears leaked out onto his cheeks,  
“I only care about my brother, and that’s you, Dean. Just tell me, I’m begging you here…”

0000

TBC


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- My apologies for the wait on this, I try my best to get the chapters out weekly at the very least but I just have not been feeling well these last couple of days, what with my migraines coming full force lately due to stress on trying to find a new job and all and getting this chapter out in a timely manner has been difficult. Thanks for the understanding though, it’s much appreciated!

Chapter 25

“Sammy, I don’t want to talk about this right now-“

“Too bad,” The anger returned to Sam’s voice as he moved to block his brother’s path out of the kitchen,  
“You’re talking, whether you want to or not. I don’t care what I have to do, Dean-“ He stopped mid-sentence as Dean attempted to side-step him once more and he raised his voice another notch,  
“Goddamn it, Dean!”

Dean narrowed his green eyes at his little brother as Sam got in his way again just as he was making his way back to the front door,  
“Get out of my way, Sam.” The older Winchester had not intended for his voice to shake; he had tried to put as much anger in it as possible, but although he had just drank an entire beer bottle, he was still feeling shaky much to his annoyance.

“Make me,” Sam narrowed his own eyes right back and continued to block the front door. Looking his older brother straight in the eye, he continued curtly,  
“You’re not leaving this room until you talk…and I’m not just talking about you giving me this shitty excuse that you’re fine and dandy and everything’s all lollypops and candy canes.”

“Sam.” Dean forced his voice to carry the normal “big brother, do as I say” tone,  
“Let it go-“

“No!” Sam snapped back, folding his arms across his chest and glaring at his brother,   
“I won’t let it go! Did you suddenly forget that if you stop drinking that you die, and then I’ll die?” He watched as his brother visibly flinched, lowering his eyes with shame. Feeling slight guilt that he had to bring that up right then, thus causing that look in Dean’s eyes, Sam knew he couldn’t back down. Not now. He lowered his voice slightly,  
“Dean, I poured my heart out to you about how I was feeling after returning from Hell and not once did you allow me to suffer through it alone, even when I couldn’t talk! Let me tell you something, it wasn’t something I wanted to ever share; even though I knew you had experienced Hell for yourself, I didn’t want to tell you just how hurt I had been from what Lucifer did to me…” His voice choked up slightly before Sam forced himself to put the fierceness back into it,  
“Want to know why?” Not waiting for Dean to reply, Sam answered,  
“Because I knew it would hurt you, Dean! I knew my own suffering would cause you so much agony, on top of everything else you went through while I was down there! That’s the last thing I wanted to put you through and yet, because of the nightmares and the pain from my hands and on top of that, struggling to get my voice back…you never let me go through it alone and you forced me to finally talk to you!” He finally lowered his voice a notch,  
“Now I’m asking you…no, I’m telling you…let me do the same thing, Dean. It’s not fair and you know it…You know, this might come as a shocker to you, but I happen to give a rat’s ass about you as much as much as you do about me and I’m not going to sit by one more night allowing you to suffer like this silently-“

“Are you done, Sammy?” Dean interrupted and for the first time, Sam noticed his brother had crossed to the other side of the room, his entire body shaking and his hands clenched into fists. Whether the shaking was from what had just happened due to his lack of alcohol or from anger, Sam wasn’t sure.

“I don’t know,” The younger Winchester brother replied tentatively, his back still up against the front door,  
“You tell me.”

“You don’t know the full extent of what I did, Sam,” Dean’s shoulders tensed as he made his way back over to his brother, his hands still clenched into fists to attempt to stop the shaking, but also to keep himself from punching a wall,  
“The full extent of the things I did while you were in Hell-“

“Yes, actually, I do, Dean!” Sam interrupted, his voice cracking once more with emotion,  
“I don’t know every little detail that happened after you crashed the Impala, but before that…I do know what you did! Remember how I told you Lucifer tortured me with visions of you and then how he made me believe that you had died in that accident?” At his brother’s hesitant nod, Sam gulped,  
“It wasn’t just little bits and pieces here and there, Dean; it wasn’t even like the visions I used back during the time of Yellow-Eyes. He literally was showing me a play by play of your day to day life for all those months, Dean…I saw you looking at the letters, the cards I kept while I was at Stanford, I saw…I saw how you lost the amulet at that bar that one night and went to Stull Cemetery where I last saw you-“

“Sammy, stop-“

“I saw the hallucinations, Dean, and how you left Lisa’s after only a week and pulled over to a deserted road to listen to the tape I set you,” Sam continued as if his brother hadn’t spoken,  
“He didn’t just force me to see everything you suffered through, but I heard it all as well. If there was one way the devil knew how to torture me, it was through you…which is why I understand more then you realize how you spiraled out of control like you did-“

“Sam, please, I’m begging you. Stop,” Dean attempted to interrupt again, feeling himself shaking again, only this time from the emotions he was attempting to hold back and not from the beer…or lack thereof.

“No, Dean, not yet,” Sam felt it safe to move away from the door and took a step closer to his brother, even as Dean took a shaky step back,  
“You wanta know what was going through my mind, even as Lucifer was torturing me physically and mentally? All I could think about was, oh my God, my brother died because of me. He died and he didn’t have anyone there with him during that accident and I wasn’t there to tell you…I wasn’t there, Dean, and I wish more then anything in this universe we could go back in time and change everything, but we can’t.” He sucked in a shaky breath,  
“Dean, I understand more then you realize why you made the deal with that Archangel-“

“Don’t try to make up some excuse for me, Sam; don’t try to and say that it was okay! It’s never okay! It wasn’t okay for that douchebag Archangel to be a dick and tell me that either I drink for the rest of my life or we both die; it wasn’t okay for him to bring you back from the Cage without your voice and your hands destroyed, just like it wasn’t okay for me to drink myself into an oblivion for over a year!” Dean turned away from his baby brother and walked over to his bed, collapsing on it with his head in his hands,

“Making deals with demons and angels are never ‘okay’, I didn’t say it was!” Sam cried, his voice catching in his throat,  
“But that doesn’t mean that what you did was wrong either…because I would have done the same thing, Dean, and you know it! I’ve attempted it, too, and I would do it again in a heartbeat if the tables were turned-“

“Don’t say that-“

“Then you need to stop saying that, because it’s the same damn thing, Dean!” The younger brother interrupted, walking over to where his brother was still resting on the bed and knelt down in front of him,  
“You’re a good person, Dean-“

“Don’t.”

“It’s true.”

“Don’t say that, Sam-“

“Why?” Sam pushed stubbornly.

“You know why, Sam! I’ve failed! I failed everything, from saving you like I promised I would to saving our family! I’ve acted like nothing more then a selfish son of a bitch; I went ahead and agreed to drink for the rest of my life on the negotiation if I stopped, you’d be sent back to the Cage! Tell me, Sammy, how can you deny that’s not failure?” Dean demanded, feeling the threat of a few tears forming at the corners of his eyes but stubbornly pushed them back.

“How can I deny that?” Sam repeated, narrowing his eyes once more in his big brother’s direction,  
“Dean, no offense, but that has got to be the dumbest thing you’ve ever said to me.” As his brother’s head lifted in surprise, Sam continued sternly,  
“Nobody calls my brother that, especially not my brother! Dean…do you really think that low of yourself, that you think you deserve to suffer? That you don’t deserve to live or get a second chance at life?” Before the older Winchester could reply, Sam went on,  
“Dean, you turned your life around after that accident and yes, it took a lot of time, but you still did it and you got yourself a job and started taking care of yourself again! What happened to the guy who walked up to Bobby’s front porch after his interview , who was feeling more confident in himself?”

A tense silence followed the question and Sam went over the last couple of months in his mind. Everything from finally starting to talk again, to Dean getting control of his alcoholism, Dean’s interview, Sarah Blake’s arrival and then those punks who had arrived in Bobby’s junk yard that afternoon. Suddenly, the younger Winchester started to put it all together as he recalled those bastard’s words to his brother and to himself as well and anger churned in his gut at just the memory.

No wonder Dean was starting to doubt himself again. No wonder he refused to drink in front of him unless pushed to do it.

“You know those punks who said those things to us that day in Bobby’s yard…” Sam slowly continued, lifting his hazel eyes to meet Dean’s just as his brother flinched,  
“They don’t know what you went through, alright? They don’t know what I went through either…Dean, they had no clue whatsoever that if they had met us just a few years ago, we easily could have killed them or at the very least, beaten them up. Those are the hunters we used to be…and even though we’re not those same guys anymore, that doesn’t mean you’re any less of a person.”

“Why don’t you hate my guts, Sammy?” Dean quietly asked, lowering his green eyes to hide the sadness showing plainly in them,  
“Because if there’s anything I deserve-“ He was suddenly cut off when he felt his little brother’s arms wrap tightly around his neck, hugging him. Closing his eyes as he felt a lone tear trail down his cheek, Dean shakily lifted his arms and returned the embrace, hugging his little brother back just as tightly.

No words were spoken for a few long minutes before Sam spoke up once again, his voice muffled against his shoulder,  
“Because you’re my big brother.”

Dean closed his eyes and fell silent for a few moments as he listened to those simple words, words which if the tables were turned, he would have said right back to Sam. Sam was his baby brother, there was nothing he wouldn’t do for the kid, no matter what kind of shit they had been through. But he was different; he knew he was…how was it that he deserved to have happiness and acceptance after everything he had done these past two years?

“Get that thought out of your head, Dean.”

“What?” Dean frowned in confusion as he felt Sam pull away and watched as his brother gave him a hardened look,  
“What do you-“

“You said that out loud, Dean,” Sam interrupted, resting back on his heels on the floor,  
“You’re no different then I am. We’ve both have our fair share of crap, Dean; don’t single yourself out over a mistake you made. Okay, it wasn’t the smartest thing to do, but you already know that. You didn’t hurt anybody, Dean, and even if you did, I know for a fact that you would’ve regretted it-“

“Not while I was piss-ass drunk, Sammy-“

“Maybe not, but you’re different now. You’re a different person. And no you’re not perfect, Dean; you’ll never be perfect. Hell, I’ve done far worse then you ever did these past two years-“

“Don’t say that, Sam,” Dean shook his head as he closed his eyes.

“It’s the truth, though,” The younger Winchester interjected, feeling his heart clenching as he recalled all the horrible choices he had made in the past,  
“But you don’t hold it against me; you’ve forgiven me. And although there’s nothing for me to forgive YOU for, Dean, if it means that it’ll make you feel better, know that I’ve completely forgiven you, too, and so has Bobby. You just have to learn to forgive yourself and let this go. This drinking business is a part of who you are now and I’m not about to see you get yourself killed by not taking care of yourself…” A few tears filled Sam’s hazel eyes but he refused to allow them to fall,  
“Dean, c’mon, I mean…if you can’t do this for yourself, then at least do it for me.” He watched as Dean arched his eyebrows,  
“I still need my big brother. I’m still in the learning process of using these,” He nodded down at his prosthetics and felt his heart clench once more at the mere memory of the surgery,  
“Please, Dean…I just want you to see who you really are, that’s all.”

“And what am I, Sam?”

“I told you. My big brother. But more then that, you’re human and you have every right in the world to make mistakes and be forgiven for them.”

Sam’s words rung in Dean’s ears as he listened to every word his little brother was saying. He didn’t know how or if he would ever be able to completely accept it, but the older brother knew that there was one thing he could do. He could at least try for his brother’s sake. His little brother, the most important person in the world to him. He refused to let Sammy down again, not if he could help it…and if that meant drinking in front of him, then so be it.

Seeing some of the frustration start to leave his brother’s face, Sam nodded his head and rose to his feet,  
“You know what to do now.” He jerked his chin towards the fridge and then grinned back down at his brother,  
“Get another bottle of beer so you’re not shaking anymore and we’ll see about getting the Impala cleaned up.”

Unable to stop a tiny smile forming on his face as he rose to his feet as well, Dean clamped his little brother on his upper arm and asked,  
“You’re still up for doing it?”

“As long as you take care of yourself, I am.” Sam replied, seriousness still etched deep into his voice. Noticing that his brother hadn’t moved back towards the kitchen, the younger brother sighed and made his way to the fridge. His prosthetic hands were still slow at working to get the door open, but Sam stubbornly managed to keep it open with one hand and grabbed another bottle with the other. He turned around just as Dean appeared behind him to take the beer,  
“I’m not kidding.”

“I know you’re not, Sammy,” Dean sighed quietly and unscrewed the bottle, bringing it to his lips. He closed his eyes as he felt the familiar burning sensation and then drunk the remainder before turning back to Sam,  
“Alright. Let’s get her done.” The older Winchester watched as Sam offered him a small smile in return and was surprised to find himself smiling back, even just a little.

0000

TBC


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

“How you doing over there, big guy?” Dean asked as he lifted his head and looked across the Impala at his little brother, who was in the process of de-junking the inside of the car,  
“Your hands still doing good?”

With a nod of his head and a roll of his hazel eyes, Sam smirked and replied,  
“I’m alright, Dean; I’m a little slow, but I’m okay.” As soon as the words escaped his mouth, however, the younger Winchester felt his right hand start to act up and he growled under his breath,  
“Sonuvabitch…”

“Sammy?” Dean put down the soapy sponge he was using the clean the front tire and rose to his feet to walk around the other side of the car,  
“You okay?” When Sam didn’t reply, the older brother repeated,  
“Sam-“

“It’s just acting up a little, Dean,” Sam mumbled with an annoyed shake of his head, lifting his eyes to meet his brother’s as he came into his line of vision,  
“Hey, um, could you…” He bit his lip, unsure how to ask this question, but Dean beat him to it as he knelt down beside his little brother.

“Let’s see what the problem is, buddy,” Dean grinned as he took Sam’s arm and placed it in his lap,  
“I’m gonna take this off for a few moments, alright?” He waited until Sam had nodded his head in understanding before he made his first move to unhook the prosthetic. There hardly were ever any times when Dean had to undo the prosthetics, even while Sammy was sleeping they were left on, but every now and then, it happened and the older Winchester could tell just by the redness that crept over Sam’s face that it still embarrassed him,  
“Just hang tight for me.”

As he unhooked the prosthetic hand and slipped it off of his brother, Dean made sure to keep one hand carefully holding the long ago healed stump that was left, gently massaging it. Any time when Dean found himself helping his brother this way, it always seemed to calm Sam just by his simple touch. Even though his own hands still shook due to the alcohol, the younger brother never once brought that up; instead, he just kept his eyes closed and his head turned away so that he didn’t have to look at what wasn’t there anymore.

Not even three minutes later, Dean squeezed Sam’s upper arm and helped slip the prosthetic back into place,  
“Better?”

Opening his eyes slowly and looking down at his right hand, clenching and unclenching it, Sam grinned slightly and nodded,  
“It’s better, thanks…”

“No sweat,” Dean kept his hand on his brother’s arm and just as he was about to rise to his feet when he felt a cold bottle being shoved into his other hand.

“Take it,” Sam demanded as he looked his brother straight in the eye,  
“It’s been over two hours.” He nodded down at the beer bottle clenched in Dean’s hand,  
“Take it. Drink it. That’s an order.” He waited until his brother had unscrewed the cap with shaking hands and took the first sip before he smiled himself and ducked back inside the Impala,  
“Hey Dean?”

“Yeah?” Dean rose to his feet and was just walking back over to where he had dropped the soapy sponge when Sam’s next words caused him to stop.

“Looks like you found the tape I made for you.”

Nearly dropping the beer bottle to the ground, Dean’s green eyes widened in surprise as he turned back around slowly,  
“What?” As he turned back towards his brother, his heart leapt into his throat as he saw the single cassette tape Sam was now waving in the air. There was no anger present in Sam’s eyes however; only understanding and sadness,  
“I forgot that was in there-“

“Can I ask why you didn’t stay with Lisa?” Sam tentatively asked as he fumbled with the cassette case and pulled the tape out.

Pulling a spare bucket over and sitting down on it as Sam turned the tape over in his hands, Dean sighed and closed his eyes,  
“I felt like I couldn’t do it then, Sammy. I mean…they didn’t understand…”

“I’m not angry that you didn’t stay, Dean,” Sam lifted his head to meet his brother’s eyes again,  
“Remember, Lucifer showed it all to me…I’m just curious to know why you didn’t let her love you? You only stayed a week, man-“

“Because you weren’t there, Sam, that’s why,” Dean turned his head away from his brother. This was not the kind of conversation he had expected to have with Sam right now; but then again, he had not expected that tape to make its sudden appearance right now when he had totally forgotten about it,  
“She and Ben…I cared about them. I still care about them. But they weren’t you, Sammy, and it’s not like they would’ve been able to help anyways…” He sighed,  
“Besides, to tell you the God’s honest truth…I probably would have started drinking in her home and who knows who bad I would have gotten? With how bad I ended up, I most likely would’ve hurt Ben…”

Nodding his head in understand and seeing the need to drop the subject as he saw how the memories were starting to effect his big brother, Sam held the tape out towards Dean,  
“Do you still want this? Or…garbage?”

Knowing Sam meant no harm in asking the innocent question, Dean felt leftover guilt fill him as he went over in his mind everything Sam had said on that cassette tape. One thing in particular…He shakily accepted the tape from Sam’s outstretched hand and turned it over his own hands before he reached up to finger the amulet that was still hanging from his neck,  
“Sammy…”

His own eyes wondering down to the little golden amulet hanging from Dean’s neck, Sam’s own heart clenched for a moment as he realized what it was he had said,  
“I didn’t mean it that way, Dean-“

“I know, kiddo,” Dean whispered, not daring to meet Sam’s eyes,  
“I know…”

“Then what?” When his brother didn’t reply, Sam sighed softly,  
“You know I’m not angry about…that…right? Even if you think you should be forgiven for that, there’s nothing to forgive-“

“Yes there is,” Dean shook his head as continued fingering the charm in his shaking fingers,  
“God Sammy, I’m sorry-“

“Shut up.” 

Lifting an eyebrow in surprise, Dean finally turned to his little brother,  
“What?”

“Shut up.” There was absolutely no heat in Sam’s words; instead, all Dean saw was love and acceptance in his baby brother’s large eyes,  
“Stop apologizing for something that wasn’t your fault. Not everything is your fault, Dean.”

“Sam-“

“No. If you want me to say that I forgive you, then of course I forgive you; but it wasn’t your fault.” The younger Winchester shook his head and sighed,  
“I’m sorry I brought that up…This wasn’t my intention when I asked about the tape…”

“I know, Sammy,” Dean lowered his eyes again and stared at the tape he held, his eyes scanning over his brother’s familiar handwriting on the front,  
“Thanks…” Not wanting this uncomfortable conversation to continue, the older Winchester continued,  
“In answer to the question though, I wanta keep it. I just wanta keep it.”

“Alright.” Sam replied with a nod of his own head before turning back to the Impala. Just as he was starting to toss more leftover wrappers and other garbage into the bag beside him, Sam turned back to his brother and grinned over his shoulder,  
“So what’dya say once this baby is cleaned, you re-teach me how to drive her? You’re still going to allow me to right?” He winked at Dean.

Grateful that Sam was finding some way to change the subject, Dean finally allowed himself to grin back at his little brother. He felt some of the loads of guilt, the baggage he had been carrying around, start to lighten on his shoulders as he watched Sam wink in his direction,  
“Of course. A promise is a promise.”

0000

“Are you sure it’s a good idea, Dean?” Bobby folded his arms over his chest and stared at the older Winchester before looking out the window at Sam, who was sitting outside in the front seat of the now clean as new Impala,  
“I mean, neither of you have driven in well over a year; and with Sam’s condition-“

“It’s not a ‘condition’, Bobby,” Dean interrupted with a frown, following his friend’s gaze and watching as his baby brother lifted his hands up and placed them on the steering wheel. He continued to watch as Sam closed his eyes and took deep breaths, in and out, in and out, as if he was mentally preparing himself for what was to come,  
“He’s been doing amazing lately, you know that. And it’s not like I’m going to be letting him constantly drive by himself. He’ll just be driving me to and from work, and some practice rounds with me.”

“I just want you two idjits to be safe, boy, that’s all,” The gruff hunter replied, softening his tone a notch,  
“It’s not that I don’t believe that he can do it; it’s just too soon-“

“It’s been months, Bobby, and he believes he can do it,” Dean interjected, grabbing his jean jacket and shrugging into it,  
“So I believe he can do it.” He reached out and grabbed the open beer bottle resting on the cabin’s kitchen table,  
“It’s not like I’ll be driving, Bobby; and you know I won’t let anything happen to the kid.”

Huffing, Bobby rolled his eyes,  
“I know you won’t, you idjit.”

“We’ll be fine, I promise,” Dean attempted a small smile for Bobby’s sake and held his hand out for the car keys,  
“Keys, Bobby.” He waited for a few tense moments before Bobby finally shook his head with a weary sigh and handed the keys over, letting them fall into Dean’s palm.

“Just be careful.”

Letting out a huff of his own, the older Winchester rolled his green eyes,  
“Do you have no faith in us?”

“Of course I do.”

“Then it’ll be fine.” With one final look at his friend, Dean clutched the familiar car keys in his hand and walked out the door, Bobby right behind him.

0000

“I’m scared…”

Dean turned to look at his little brother as soon as he settled into the passenger seat and instantly noticed the bead of sweat forming on Sam’s brow,  
“Scared of what?”

“This.” With a nod of his head down to the steering wheel, Sam sucked in a shaky breath,  
“It’s been so fuckin’ long, Dean, what if I crash?”

“You won’t crash, Sammy, I’m right here beside you. I won’t LET you crash,” Dean smiled before he took a small sip out of his beer bottle,  
“Just take it one step at a time, kiddo. We’re in no hurry-“

“But what if…what if I’m unable to get control of the car?” Sam continued with a shake of his head. His heart was pounding loudly in his chest. The younger Winchester had been looking forward to this ever since the day Dean had given him the news that he would help him learn how to drive again; even just yesterday, he had looked his brother straight in the eye and demanded to know whether or not they still planned on this. And now this was happening? The last time he had felt this type of anxiety was right before he had his operation and that was months ago…

“Sammy, listen to me,” Dean finished off the remainder of his beer and tucked the empty bottle into his coat pocket,  
“I won’t let anything happen to you. I haven’t told you this enough, buddy, but I have all the faith in the world in you; you’ll be able to do it. Just think of it as that time when I taught you how to drive as a teenager.”

Letting out a small laugh at that reminder, Sam rolled his hazel eyes,  
“That’s a fun time to remember, Dean. I couldn’t tell the difference between the break and the gas!”

Shrugging his shoulders, Dean smirked,  
“Okay, maybe that wasn’t such a good example…”

“No.”

“After all, you did almost rear end Dad’s truck-“

“Dean!” Sam was unable to hold back a full blown laugh as he rested his head on the steering wheel and shook it,  
“Dean, I didn’t hit it-“

“No, but you almost did,” Dean interrupted with a wink his little brother’s way,  
“You’re lucky I managed to convince dad it was my fault.”

“Oh yeah, lucky you,” Sam lifted his head with a bitch face firmly in place.

“Seriously, Sammy, don’t you remember?” Dean winked at his little brother and laughed loudly as Sam glared his way,  
“Okay, okay…Maybe DON’T think of it as your first driving experience when you were a teenager. You know how to work the Impala, Sam; you’ve been driving her for years. My baby won’t let anything bad happen to you and more importantly, I won’t let anything happen to you.”

0000

“I don’t think so, Sammy-“

“Dean,” Sam shook his head and huffed loudly before slowly putting the Impala into park, but let the engine running. He smiled as he listened to her purr and turned to face his brother again,  
“We’re in a safe location; we’re not out on the road and…well, I’ll be in the passenger seat right beside you-“

“Don’t start quoting me to me, Sammy-“

“I won’t if you give yourself a chance,” Sam interrupted, gently patting the steering wheel,  
“Admit it to yourself. You miss driving you, don’t you?”

“More then you realize,” Dean frowned as he looked around the empty field Sam had pulled the Impala into. This empty lot where there was nobody around, except for him and Sam,  
“But it’s not possible, Sam-“

“Sure it is,” Sam pushed the car door open and got out, walking around to the other side to open the passenger side door,  
“Remember what you told me?” At Dean’s raised eyebrow, Sam continued,  
“Just take it one step at a time…besides, it’s not like we’ll have dad’s truck to run into.” He chuckled at Dean’s glare directed at him and rolled his eyes as his brother’s face softened yet again,  
“Just give it a try, Dean. It’s not like you’re going to get pulled over or anything.”

“Sam, I-“ Dean was suddenly cut off as he felt Sam hook his arm through his,  
“Sammy, what the hell-“

“Get over there,” Sam gently pushed his brother towards the driver’s seat and waited until Dean took a seat behind the wheel before he leaned up against the door,  
“How does it feel?”

At the question, Dean closed his green eyes and leaned his head back against the head rest. If he was completely honest with himself, it felt more right then he had ever felt in over a year. It felt like…

“It feels like home.” He pushed back the few tears that pricked his eyes.

Offering a smile back at his brother, Sam folded his arms over his chest and nodded his head,  
“That’s because it is.” He winked in Dean’s direction before walking back over to the passenger door,  
“It’s where you belong, Dean.”

0000

TBC


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

“Well, this is totally…random, Sammy,” Dean arched an eyebrow as he rested more comfortably in the passenger seat of the Impala and turned to look at his little brother who was behind the wheel,  
“What made you decide to want to do this?”

Sam was silent for a few moments as he took in his older brother’s question and after shooting Dean a quick glance, he shrugged his shoulders and pulled up to a stop light,  
“I don’t know…it just crossed my mind the other day when I picked you up from work, you know? When was the last time the two of us ever actually had a break? And I don’t just mean staying in the cabin eating bonbons and watching porn, Dean.”

Raising both eyebrows now, the older brother took a long sip of his beer and kept his eyes on Sam as he urged him to continue,  
“Go on.”

“You told me I was doing better at driving, well enough where I could even make small trips on my own,” Sam continued,  
“And…well, it’s been a long couple of years, Dean. You have to admit it…”

Lowering his eyes and fingering the bottle in his hands, Dean nodded his head,  
“I know.”

“So…I just thought, what the hell? It’s totally random, but I was live chatting with Sarah a few weeks ago and she told me about this quiet place a couple hours away from here, this camp site-“

“Sam, you know how I feel about camping,” Dean interrupted with a groan, rolling his eyes to the roof of his beloved car.

“We’re not CAMPING, Dean…well, not really,” The younger Winchester shrugged again,  
“It’s not like we’re gonna be pitching a tent or anything.”

“Thank God.”

“It’s just for a day and we can even sleep in the car, Dean; it’s not like we’ve never done it before,” Sam went on as he continued driving,  
“Sarah just told me that it was a quiet, peaceful place and…hardly anybody goes there at around this time of year, you know?”

“If you say so, Sam,” Dean sighed softly as he swallowed the last bit of beer and was about to toss it to the floor when memories washed over him like a tidal wave. 

The last time he had officially drank in the Impala was when he had crashed her. He had trashed his beloved car to where she was almost unrecognizable anymore. A sadness crossed over the older brother’s face as the memories started to come at him full force-

“You okay, Dean?”

Jerking out of his thoughts, Dean breathed a heavy sigh and turned to face his little brother,  
“Yeah, I’m fine, Sam…”

“You sure?” When he was greeted with silence, Sam frowned,  
“Dean? Want me to pull over or-“

“No, no it’s alright, Sammy,” Dean interrupted gently, pushing the memories out of his mind. That’s what they were after all. Memories. Bad memories of course. They were still a part of his past, but that’s just what it was. His past.

Never to be repeated.

0000

“Well, this wasn’t how I expected the day to turn out-“

“Sam, you’re experiencing some pain,” Dean cut in as he threw his and his little brother’s bags onto the motel table and shot Sam a stern look,  
“And you know the drill, Sammy. If you start experiencing pain, you stop driving. That’s the deal we made when I started to re-teach you, remember?” He held up his hand when Sam opened his mouth to object,  
“No exceptions.”

“Fine,” Sam sighed in annoyance as he sat down heavily on the nearest bed. He gritted his teeth as he attempted to unhook his prosthetics, but after a few moments was stopped by Dean’s own hands,  
“Dean, it’s okay, I got it-“

“Nu-uh,” Dean interrupted, carefully and gently unhooking both of his brother’s prosthetics and laid them down on the bed beside him. He didn’t waste any time before he began massaging the leftover stumps that used to be Sam’s hands,  
“Feeling better, kiddo?”

Gulping, Sam closed his eyes as the pain slowly started to leave,  
“Yeah…thanks…”

“No more driving for us today, Sam; it’s getting late anyway, we got kind of a late start, didn’t we?” He attempted a grin for his brother’s sake,  
“We’ll continue in the morning if you’re feeling better.”

“I’ll be fine, Dean,” Sam sighed as he allowed himself to look at where his real hands used to be,  
“I don’t know why it’s still a little hard to see them like that…”

“You went through a traumatic experience, Sammy.”

“So did you.”

“What are you saying?” Dean frowned.

“Both of our experiences were horrible, Dean,” Sam quietly explained as he turned his eyes away from the stumps and met his brother’s eyes instead,  
“Just in different ways. Don’t go thinking mine was worse then yours, because you know what I’m gonna tell you…”

Dean opened his mouth, an argument on the tip of his tongue, but soon stopped as he met his baby brother’s large hazel eyes and remembered all of the intense conversations the two of them had had in the past two years…but especially within the last couple of months. He wasn’t about to take another giant step backwards.

A long stretch of silence passed between the two brothers before Sam finally pulled gently away,  
“I’m alright now, Dean. They were probably hurting because I hadn’t driven for that long with those hands yet.” He started to rise to his feet, ignoring the yawn that escaped his mouth,  
“We can get back on the road-“

“I don’t think so,” Dean shook his head and gently pushed Sam back down on the bed,  
“That’s not gonna happen, Sammy. Besides, I’m also pretty whipped, we need to get some sleep.” 

As Sam finally accepted the arrangement, the older Winchester smiled and reached for his brother’s prosthetics once more and helped hook them back into place. He watched as a look of utmost relief came over Sam’s face and choosing not to comment any further, Dean walked over to Sam’s duffel and placed it on his brother’s bed, silent communication passing between them.

It wasn’t until over two hours later when Sam woke up to the familiar sound of the rustling of covers in the bed beside him and with a tired groan, he cracked open an eye just in time to see Dean climb out of bed and walk over to the mini fridge that was set up in the corner. He opened both eyes and waited until his brother opened the door and stopped for a few moments. Sam held his breath, slightly nervous; this was a similar incident to what had happened not too long ago, when he had caught Dean hesitating before grabbing a beer, for fear of drinking in front of him.

But he won’t be making that same mistake again, Sam thought over in his head as he made sure to stay silent,  
He wouldn’t do that.

Finally breathing out a quiet sigh of relief as Dean finally grabbed one of the beer bottles they had stashed in the fridge, Sam watched as his brother, still oblivious to Sam waking up, sat back down on his bed and unscrewed the cap open. 

Without thinking twice about it, Sam finally pushed his own covers back and rose up out of bed. As his bare feet hit the floor, the younger Winchester watched as Dean turned around, slightly startled, but didn’t say anything as Sam walked over to the mini fridge and grabbed a second bottle. 

No words were spoken between the two brothers as Sam slowly and carefully unscrewed the cap on his own beer bottle and took a seat at his big brother’s side. Without saying a word, Sam lifted his bottle up and smiled as Dean clanked his against his own and the two drank in a comfortable silence.

0000

“I told you it was deserted,” Sam smirked later on the next day as he climbed on top of the hood of the Impala beside his brother and stared out at the beautiful lake in front of them. The Winchester’s had arrived just a little less then a half an hour ago and the first thing that had come out of his brother’s mouth had been the unexpected words: “You were right.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t go getting a big head over it, Samantha,” Dean quipped back as he reached down and opened the cooler to grab two beers, handing one to his baby brother,  
“Don’t be expecting me to agree with you every day from here on out.”

“Shut up,” Sam rolled his eyes as he took a small sip of his beer, but kept his eyes on Dean, who did the same,  
“Hey…”

“Yeah?”

“You seem to be more comfortable drinking around me,” Sam hesitantly pointed out,  
“Last night, you didn’t seem to have a problem with it.”

Shrugging his shoulders as he looked out at the lake that seemed to stretch on endlessly and then turned his head to look at the countless amount of picnic tables set up nearby,  
“Maybe I wasn’t.”

“Maybe?” Sam repeated.

“You want for me to tell you that you were right again, Sammy?” Dean rolled his eyes to the blue sky,  
“You’re really asking for an ass-kicking, aren’t you, kiddo-“

“I just want to make sure you’re really doing okay, Dean, that’s all,” Sam interrupted quickly, turning to look in the other direction, his hazel eyes taking in the endless view. It really was beautiful. If anybody was right in this conversation, it was Sarah Blake,  
“It’s just something I especially noticed last night.”

“I’m doing better, Sam; and I’m telling you the truth.”

“Finally!” Sam quipped back, shooting a wink at his brother and laughed as Dean glared at him, although there was no heat or anger there,  
“You know what else Sarah said about this place?”

“What’s that?” Dean tilted his head back and took another sip of his beer.

“Remember how we used to star gaze on this very hood at night?”

Allowing a tiny smile to form on his lips at that very memory, Dean silently recalled how the very last time he and Sam had ever done that-a little something that was reserved for them and them only-it was the night before his baby brother took the swan dive into Lucifer’s Cage. Or rather, the night before Sam said the big ‘yes’,  
“It’s been a while since we did that, hasn’t it, Sammy?”

“Nearly two years…” Sam voice softened as a distant look came over his eyes and Dean didn’t miss the slight flinch that came over him at just the memory,  
“Right before I said ‘yes’, actually.”

“That was then, though, buddy,” Dean attempted to turn the conversation away from such a heavy subject matter,  
“And that’s not gonna happen to you ever again, Sammy. So tonight-“

“Star gazing,” Sam finished for him with a slight smile, ignoring the slight moisture building up in his hazel eyes.

0000

“Sammy, would you get your nose out of your laptop for just one moment and quit chatting with your girlfriend to help me find that Metallica tape?” Dean shouted from where his head was inside the Impala,  
“I know I stuck it right here!”

“Keep looking, Dean!” Sam called back with a roll of his eyes as he turned back to the webcam hooked up to his laptop and smiled at Sarah,  
“And in case you forgot, she’s not my girlfriend…”

“Friend, girlfriend, whatever, just help me out here, damnit!” Dean growled under his breath as he continued to leaf through his cassette tape collection.

“Dean, you’re the one who wants to listen to Metallica this evening, not me,” Sam huffed as he shot a wink in Sarah’s direction, causing her to chuckle softly. 

“Where’d you hide it, Sam?” Sarah questioned from the laptop screen.

Silently motioning to the pocket of his flannel shirt, Sam had to force himself not to laugh too loudly as Dean continued growling from behind him. He was about to say something else to Sarah when his brother appeared right behind him and spoke over his shoulder at the webcam,  
“Sorry, Sarah, but I need to borrow your boyfriend here for one second-“

“Shut up.” Both Sarah and Sam interrupted at the same time.

Rolling his eyes at his older brother, Sam shook his head and turned back to the computer screen,  
“I’ll talk with you when we get back home, Sarah.” As he bid his friend goodnight, Sam shut off his laptop from where it was it sitting on one of the picnic tables and turned back around to see Dean making his way back towards the Impala.

“You’re the one who drove my baby last, Sam, not me!” Dean shouted again as he sat in the driver’s seat and started to leaf through his box of cassette tapes again.

“Did you actually check inside the tape player, Dean?” Sam raised an eyebrow as he leaned against the hood of the car.

“Hmm,” Dean huffed, turning his attention away from his little brother for a moment as he pushed the play button. Fully expecting to hear the loud blasting of his missing Metallica tape in the speakers, Dean nearly jumped out of his seat when instead, his little brother’s voice came through instead.

Hey, Dean. Remember how I asked you whether or not you wanted to keep the last tape? Well, you said you wanted to, but I hope that you change your mind after listening to this. I finally managed to go behind your back and make this while you were at work, so you have no way of knowing this even exists. Oh, and in case you’re wondering…I’ve got your Metallica tape. Don’t worry, I didn’t throw it away or anything. Although it is tempting.

Shock coming over his face as he listened, Dean lifted his head and met his brother’s eyes and shook his head as Sam pulled the missing cassette tape out of his shirt pocket and smirked,  
“You little bitch,” He mumbled to himself, although he couldn’t hold back the grin.

I figured, this is the only way I can really talk to you without having you interrupt me, but knowing you, Dean, you’ll STILL find someway to interrupt, but it’s not like I’ll know that. I know I’m about to go all chick-flick moment on you right now, but guess what, Dean? I don’t care. What I have to say, you need to hear, so settle down in the front seat of the Impala-I know that’s where you’re at right now-and listen tight, big brother. You saved my life, Dean…again. And I couldn’t thank you enough. Just because you’re drinking for the rest of your life doesn’t mean that you’re not my big brother anymore. This in no way, shape or form makes you weak, Dean; going through everything you went through just makes you stronger. That’s the truth. It’s been a long two years, I have to say, but despite all the pain and angst we’ve been through since you helped get me out of Lucifer’s Cage…I honestly wouldn’t trade those two years because I feel like we’re closer now then we’ve ever been. Call me a girl, call me Samantha, I don’t care. I love you, Dean.

Click.

Dean was unaware of anything that was going on around him as the tape clicked off and turned over to the blank side until he felt his brother’s presence standing right outside the driver’s side door,  
“Sammy…”

“You can have your Metallica tape back, first,” Sam reached out and placed the familiar tape into Dean’s palm before pulling another tape out of his pocket,  
“Also one more quick question.” When Dean looked up at him with green eyes brimming with tears, Sam smiled gently and tapped the second tape in with his index finger,  
“Are you sure you want to keep this one? It’s just bad memories, Dean, and you know it.” Sam stepped back as he allowed Dean to climb out of the car, the first tape Sam had made for him before he had died lying limply between his fingers,  
“Dean…”

“Alright,” The older brother finally replied with a nod of his head. Without any words spoken between the two, Dean walked over to the lake’s edge and stood there, staring up at the night sky. Taking a deep breath and sharing one more look at his little brother, who was nodding his head encouragingly, Dean finally lifted his arm and flung the tape into the lake with a light splash.

“It’s just a memory now,” Sam whispered, reaching out and laying a hand on his big brother’s shoulder.

“Thanks, Sam,” Dean replied back, his voice just as quiet as Sam’s. Without a second thought, the older brother reached over and pulled Sam close to his chest, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and squeezing tightly.

“So what do you say about getting behind the wheel again?” Sam finally asked as he released Dean,  
“Give it a shot?” He reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out the Impala’s keys,  
“She’s always been yours, Dean.”

A full smile spreading over his face as he watched the familiar car keys dangling in front of his eyes, Dean nodded his head and snatched the keys from Sam’s hand,  
“Let’s do it.” He watched as Sam moved towards the cooler and grabbed the handle, slowly lifting it off the ground to heave back into the Impala.

“We’re still gonna star gaze, Dean,” Sam smirked as he climbed into his signature passenger seat,  
“Just in a different area.” He nodded towards the keys in Dean’s hand,  
“Start her up, big brother.” As the Impala purred to life, Sam spotted the Metallica tape now resting in between their seats,  
“Oh and you might want to put this back in the player.”

“You’re a sneak, you realize that, Sammy?” Dean grinned as he ejected Sam’s tape and inserted his classic hard rock, his smile growing wider as the familiar song began playing in the speakers,  
“You and Sarah both…speaking of which-“

“Shut up.”

“No, seriously, Sam-“

“Shut up.”

Laughter began to fill the Impala as Dean revved the engine, silently rejoicing in the feel of the soft rumble beneath him and the steering wheel underneath his hands. As he put the car into reverse and then into drive, Dean slowly backed out onto the deserted side road, all the while shooting a smile his brother’s way.

Yes. This really was home.

The End


End file.
